Next Generation: Up The Tower (UNDER REVISION)
by Cecelia O Hurd
Summary: James Potter's time at Hogwarts is bound to be filled with more than the usual mischief and school-related stress. With a mysterious locked tower and some infuriating adversaries, an exciting adventure is sure to come.
1. The Hogwarts Express

The whistle of the Hogwarts Express let out a piercing shriek, signaling its impending departure.

On the train platform, a small boy of 11 years jumped nervously at the sound, accidently trodding on his little brother's toes in the process.

"Ow, James!" the boy yowled angrily.

James Potter turned to look at his younger brother, who's eyes were already brimming with tears, "Sorry, Al. Didn't mean to."

Albus Potter, a rather frail boy of 9, was immediately swooped up by his mother, Ginny.

"Don't cry, Albus. Don't," she said soothingly, "your brother didn't mean any harm," she shot her eldest son a sharp and meaningful look.

"Yeah, it was an accident," James said, doing his best to look remorseful.

He wished his dad were here to defend him, but Harry Potter was off with Lily, the youngest of the three Potter children. They'd gone to say hello to James' Uncle Ron, who's son Hugo was Lily's age.

In a few years, they would be headed off to Hogwarts together. James himself was in the same class as several of his cousins. He had already seen the twins, Fred and Roxanne, board the train after a hasty goodbye with Uncle George and Aunt Angelina.

From where he was standing, James could also see his cousin Louis saying goodbye to Uncle Bill and Tante Fleur.

While James quite liked Fred and Roxanne, they were very energetic and fun, he couldn't stand Louis. Louis, James felt, was obnoxious and pretentious, not up for any kind of fun.

He was especially bad at Quidditch, which was James' favorite sport. James had grown up watching his mother play for the Holyhead Harpies, and while he'd never seen his dad play, he'd been regaled with stories of Harry's own great skill on the pitch countless times.

James was already looking forward to his second year at Hogwarts, when he would finally be eligible to try out for the Quidditch team. He thought he'd rather like to be a Chaser like his mother, although his father seemed to think he had the makings of a great Seeker, just as he had been.

Another whistle pulled James out of his daze, and he felt a firm hand settle on his shoulder.

He looked up to see his father, the legendary Harry Potter, looking down at him with a smile.

"Well, Jamie," Harry said, "it looks like it's time for you to go. Please behave, your mother and I will not be happy if we receive disciplinary owls of any kind."

He wrapped James in a big bear hug, "I'm going to miss you so much. You're going to do amazing."

Ginny gave James a quick embrace and a peck on the cheek, "I am so proud of you, Jamie. You're so grown up now."

Her voice cracked slightly, and James, immediately uncomfortable, disentangled himself from his mother and turned to his younger siblings.

"Bye, Al," James high-fived his little brother, taking care to be gentle. "Stay out of my room or I'll hex you."

"James!" Ginny frowned disapprovingly.

James ignored her and turned to his younger sister, "See ya, Lily."

"No!" the little eight year old said stubbornly, employing her new favorite word. Over the summer, Lily had become quite bossy and obstinate.

Ginny was pleased by this, saying it was nice to have another girl keeping the boys in line.

James turned to board the train as his father called out to him, "Write us if you need anything! And Teddy will be there to help you out too!"

Waving his hand as a gesture of acknowledgement, James finally boarded the Hogwarts Express.

The train immediately lurched forward and chugged off, pulling away from the platform.

James meandered down the train corridor, looking for a compartment to sit in. He saw all of his girl cousins sitting together in one, and quickly shuffled by.

Lucy spotted him and waved, nudging her sister Molly as she did so.

Molly was in her fourth year, while this was only Lucy's second year. Despite them being sisters, they were not in the same house. Molly was a Gryffindor like her father Percy, while Lucy, like her mother Audrey, was a Ravenclaw.

Privately, James didn't want to see much of either of them. They were both very nice, but complete know-it-alls.

James had mentioned this to his father once who, through stifled laughter, made some comment about apples and trees.

Dominique, Louis sister and a third year, was in the compartment as well. Unlike Louis, she was very friendly, and quite a good Quidditch player. She was the Gryffindor beater and there was already talk of her playing professionally.

James didn't see his cousin Victoire or his brother Teddy anywhere, and figured they must be at some prefect related event.

He quickly bypassed his cousins' carriage. They liked to baby him and he was not a baby anymore. As of today, he was a Hogwarts student.

Eventually, James found Fred and Roxanne, and happily slid into their carriage. His mood deflated a bit when he saw that Louis was also in the carriage.

"Hey, Fred. Hey, Roxanne," James cheerfully flopped down.

"Louis," he nodded coldly.

"Bonjour, James," Louis smirked.

"You know I can't understand French," James scowled at his cousin.

Louis rolled his eyes, "'Bonjour' means 'hello', James. It's simple."

"You could've just said 'hello' then."

"Or you could've-"

Louis was cut off my Roxanne, "Ahem, aren't you going to introduce yourself to our guest, James?"

She gestured to a small girl sitting by the window, who James had not previously noticed.

She had a wide face and beady rounded eyes. A long straight nose and broad smile filled out the rest of her face quite nicely. She was the kind of girl who had the potential to be something remarkable, but was not yet at the age where that potential could be realized.

James studied the girl's pale and cool expression curiously. She didn't look like anyone he knew.

Most of his family was either ginger or blond, with bright blue eyes and red round cheeks. Even James, with his dark hair and eyes, had a cheerful quality about him.

This girl did not. There was nothing readable or distinguishable about her. James was immediately intrigued.

"Hullo," he said cautiously. "I'm James Potter."

"I'm Rebecca Sims," Rebecca smiled dazzlingly at him, the enigmatic and indifferent quality disappearing entirely from her face.

"I don't know the name," James admitted. "Are you a muggleborn?"

"No, but my parents aren't magic either," an embarrassed expression flickered briefly across her face.

"What're they? Squibs?" James laughed, and Fred and Roxanne joined in.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, they are," Rebecca said cooly, whatever was left of her smile slid off her face.

"Oh," James flushed red. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" she snapped. "Something wrong with being a squib?"

"No, er, I suppose there isn't. I just meant that,well, I shouldn't have assumed," James stammered uneasily.

Rebecca looked down at her swinging legs, not tall enough to rest her feet on the floor of the train.

"It's okay. You didn't know. It's just a bit of a touchy subject. They both came from pureblood families, so it's not exactly been easy for them. You know, not being magic and all."

James cleared his throat awkwardly. Fred and Roxanne shared a look.

It was eventually Louis who broke the silence with a cruel snicker. "Bet that was a nasty shock. Being all blood proud and then having a little squib on your hands."

"It wasn't like that!" Rebecca protested.

"Oh so I suppose their pureblood families loved and cherished them then?" Louis asked.

"Well, no, but they've still done very well for themselves," Rebecca murmured.

"How'd they meet?" Roxanne asked gently, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, um," Rebecca bit her lip, "at a squib support conference. I guess they have those."

Louis dissolved into peals of laughter, "A squib support conference? Oh that's rich!"

"Leave it out, Lou," Fred snapped.

"Oh, come on," Louis laughed. "Even you've got to admit the idea of a squib support conference is hilarious."

"I'm not laughing," Fred said, narrowing his eyes.

"Well I am," Louis said obstinately. "And I shall keep laughing until someone stops me!"

And once again he dissolved into a fit of giggles, clutching his sides painfully.

"Lou-," Fred started but was cut short as Rebecca launched herself across the carriage.

Grabbing Louis by the scruff of his neck, she tossed him angrily out of the compartment, slamming it shut and locking the door behind her.

Breathlessly she whirled around, "Anyone object to keeping him out?" she asked challengingly.

Fred looked at Roxanne. Roxanne looked at James. James looked at Rebecca.

"So, Rebecca," James said. "Do you like Quidditch?"

Smiling, Rebecca took the seat opposite him, and the conversation quickly turned into an argument about teams, formations, and the yearly regulation changes.

And so the four of them rode to Hogwarts together, the muffled protests of Louis from outside the carriage providing a soothing soundtrack to their conversation.


	2. The Sorting Hat

"First years! First years over here!" a gruff voice called out.

James, still in line to get off the Hogwarts Express, craned his neck, looking for the source of the voice.

He spotted Hagrid, a family friend and gamekeeper at Hogwarts, swinging an enormous lantern and bellowing out.

"First years! Haven't got all day you know!" Hagrid hollard.

"Hagrid!" James shouted gleefully springing from the train onto the platform.

"Not so fast," a slightly accented voice said, and an arm grabbed James from behind. He turned to see his cousin Dominique, grinning broadly at him.

"Got a minute, Jamie-boy?" she asked.

"Don't call me Jamie-boy," he protested, "I'm too old for that."

"Whatever, Jamie-boy," Dominique rolled her eyes. "I need to talk to you."

"I've got to go to Hagrid."

"He can wait," she waved over James' head to Hagrid who waved back, a smile forming under his bushy and tangled beard.

"Seeing as you're about to be sorted, I want to give you some advice," Dominique offered.

James, as reluctant as he was to talk to his cousin, was always willing to take some friendly advice, especially about something as important as the sorting.

"Ok, what is it?" he asked impatiently.

"Don't end up in Slytherin, or I'll be forced to never speak to you again," she smiled teasingly at him, "Are we clear on that?"

"Is Slytherin bad?" James asked, trying to rack his brain to remember what his father had told him about each of the houses. He couldn't seem to remember anything negative being said about any one of them.

Dominique stuck her tongue out, "Oh the worst! Stuck up pinheads, those Slytherin folk. Come to think of it, anyone who isn't a Gryffindor is kind of a loser."

"Lucy's a Ravenclaw," James protested.

"And a total prat," Dominique laughed, and for once, James couldn't argue with her.

"I don't think I have any control over where I end up," James said fretfully.

"Oh, you'd be surprised."

"What do you mean?" But before Dominique could answer, Hagrid's voice echoed loudly through the crowd of assembled students.

"Last call for first years! Last call!"

"You've got to go," Dominique gave James a little push. "Later, Jamie!"

"It's James!" he protested, but she was gone.

James hurried over to Hagrid, who was boarding the last boat of first years.

"Ah! There you are, James," Hagrid pulled the boy in for a hug, smothering him in the folds of his enormous coat. "What's the hold up?"

"Dominique wanted to talk to me," James said evasively as the giant lifted him into the rowboat and clambered in after him.

Hagrid grunted, "Always liked her. Got a way with the half-humans that I myself don't have."

"Half-humans?" James himself was only half listening, keeping an eye out for the castle.

"Yeah, half-humans. Centaurs, merfolk, that kind of thing. Pay attention now, it's just around the corner."

James perked up interestedly, noticing the shadow of soft yellow light already being cast upon the rocks ahead.

And then, suddenly, like a ship on the horizon, Hogwarts castle rose, a glittering, spiraling beacon in all of its gold-soaked glory.

Towers and spirals dotted the very heights of the building. They were spotty and confused, a few of them appeared to be leaning or even built off of one and other.

"That there," Hagrid pointed to one of the larger, more stable towers, "That's where you'll be staying. The Gryffindor dormitories. You know your cousin is a prefect this year?"

"Yeah, Victoire," James said. "Teddy was right excited that they'd be working together. Couldn't stop talking about it. He's weird like that sometimes."

Hagrid chuckled, though James couldn't understand why. "I imagine he's very excited to see more of her."

"I guess. Victoire's nice."

Hagrid, still amused by the mention of Teddy and Victoire, said nothing more, although a small smile still lingered on his face. Every now and then he'd let out a soft laugh and say something vague like, "well I'll be."

James was too transfixed on the castle to notice.

It was all too soon that the ride came to an end, and the last of the rowboats bumped up against the rocky shore of the beach.

"Everybody out! Follow me! First years this way!" Hagrid continued to direct the mass of nervous, and now slightly soaked, first years up a jagged ridge of stone steps to the great doors of Hogwarts castle.

"Here you go," he grunted coming to a halt. "Front hall. Now wait here and Professor

will be with you in a minute."

Waving jovially to James, he disappeared into the Great Hall, whistling a soft tune and swinging a pink umbrella.

James shifted uneasily, then noticed Rebecca standing a short way off. Wiggling his way through the crowd, he came up beside her.

"Alright?"

She jumped slightly, "Oh, I'm alright. Just a little nervous."

Rebecca certainly looked nervous, her normally pale face had become a sickly green, and the impassiveness of her resting impression had disappeared, giving the distinct impression that she was only moments away from vomiting.

Only her eyes remained still, steely and dark as ever.

"I wouldn't be nervous," James reassured her. "Only stuck up pinheads end up anywhere other than Gryffindor. You'll be with me."

Rebecca frowned and opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a delicate cough.

An incredibly thin woman stood at the front of the entrance hall, guarding the large double doors to the feast.

She would have appeared a delicate and frail creature were it not for her incredible height. She towered over children and adults alike, and as a result was always looking down the end of her nose rather menacingly.

Dressed all in black, there was something formidable about her, and those expressionless blue eyes, which seemed to have nothing even remotely sentimental behind them, only added to this impression.

"I," the woman began rather dryly, "am Professor Tweelingen. I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts and am the head of Ravenclaw."

James looked at Rebecca, "What do you think?"

She turned to him solemnly, "I think that I don't want to be in Ravenclaw."

James nodded sagely and looked back at Professor Tweelingen, who was wrapping up a summary of the four houses.

"And remember, children, no matter where you end up, you remain part of a complete Hogwarts community which promotes camaraderie and a spirit of cooperativeness," this last part she said as if the words were being very painfully forced out of her.

Something told James that perhaps Professor Tweelingen was not a believer in the complete Hogwarts community. That was alright by him. If Domonique was to be believed, there was no such thing anyways.

The doors to the Great Hall swung open and the quivering first years filed through silently. James found himself caught in the middle, propelled forward by those around him. His legs had gone numb for some inexplicable reason.

As he passed the Hufflepuff table, he spotted Teddy, who smiled and waved. James tried to wave back, but his arm felt like lead, and was too heavy to lift.

At the very front of the Hall was a crooked stool with a shabby old hat sitting atop it. Professor Tweelingen stood next to the hat, her mouth fixed into a thin straight line.

"When I call your name," she said, "you will sit on the stool and I will place the hat on your head. You will then be sorted and go to sit with your allocated house. We will go in alphabetical order."

Clearing her throat, she held the hat aloft in one hand, and in the other shook out a list of names written on parchment.

"Emily Alder."

Emily Alder was absolutely angelic looking. Her blond hair was styled in long ringlets which reached the midpoint of her back. Her eyes were bright blue and round, with a curious and innocent look to them. And her small pink mouth was usually turned into a sweet smile.

However, at that moment, Emily Alder looked like she'd seen a vision of her own death. Several students had to gently nudge her forward to get her moving.

Stumbling, Emily made her way up to the platform, where she landed rather heavily upon the stool. The Sorting Hat was unceremoniously dumped on her head and slouched low over her eyes.

Had it been placed a bit farther back, everyone could have seen the tears brimming around the corners.

The hat didn't take too long to make up its mind, "Hufflepuff!"

Emily shakily rose to her feet, a weak smile on her face as she hurried away to the Hufflepuff table, where she was met with a smattering of applause and many reassuring hugs from the older girls.

By the time they were halfway through the sorting, James' nerves had been elevated to a level that was almost unmanageable. And then he heard his own name called.

There were a few whispers when his name was called. James was used to that. His father was a very famous and important person. He didn't know the whole story yet, his dad had said he'd hear everything when the time was right, but he knew enough of the details to understand that his dad was like one of the superheroes in one of those muggle movie pictures.

He had saved the world.

His Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione were supposed to also be very important people, but not as important as his dad. Even his mom was famous for more than her Quidditch skills.

But the name Weasley did not hold as much weight as the name Potter did, at least not at Hogwarts. There were already so many of them there that the name had all but lost its novelty.

The name "Potter" was a different story. And James, like so many times before, found the entire room staring at him curiously, like he was a display in a storefront.

Trying to hide his nerves and avoid the eyes of everyone in the room, James took his seat on the stool.

The last thing he saw before the hat was placed on his head was Rebecca, giving him a reassuring thumbs up from her place in the crowd.

Then the Sorting Hat was placed on his head and James could see nothing except for the rough, leathery darkness of the inside of the hat.

"Ah, yes," the Sorting Hat's voice was deep and smooth, yet it had a dangerous and threatening quality to it. As if it were a mere moment away from latching onto your head and never letting go. Its voice reverberated throughout James' head.

"Er, hello," James thought, feeling stupid for talking to a hat.

"Well aren't we an interesting case," the hat seemed to think that was a clever thing to say, because it began to laugh.

James resented that greatly, "I think I'm a pretty obvious case," he said defiantly, momentarily forgetting his nerves.

"Yes, I suppose you are. But it is up to you after all, isn't it?" the hat admitted.

"It is?" James couldn't remember anyone telling him he got to choose what house he was in.

"Ultimately, yes," the hat admitted. "But I can provide you some advice if you'd like. I've got my own ideas about where you should be."

"I already know where I want to be."

"Well then I suppose that's enough, isn't it? Alright, I suppose you're best suited to…" the Sorting Hat paused dramatically.

"Gryffindor!"

The hat's voice echoed throughout the hall, and there was an immediate burst of applause from the Gryffindor table. Professor Tweelingen removed the hat from his head, and did her best impression of a warm smile. It looked like she was grimacing in pain, but James gave her credit for trying.

Hopping off the stool, James rushed over to the Gryffindor table, feeling an immense sense of relief. He paused to give Rebecca an encouraging smile, mystified by her suddenly forlorn look.

Victoire immediately snatched him up and embraced him, "Oh, Jamie! You're going to love being in Gryffindor! Here sit down."

"Don't call me Jamie," he huffed angrily, taking his seat next to a boy named Jerry Mackay.

"Rebecca Sims!" Professor Tweelingen called out.

"Oh," James turned to Victoire. "I met her on the train. I think she'll end up with us."

"Do you?" Victoire was only pretending to listen, she was busy scanning the hall, as if she was looking for someone.

Rebecca sat uneasily on the stool, James tried to catch her eye but the hat covered her eyes before she could notice him.

The hat took only a moment before reaching its final verdict.

"Slytherin!"

And James, whose hands were poised to clap, felt his stomach drop to his feet.


	3. The First Night

The rest of the sorting passed rather uneventfully. Both Fred and Roxanne were sorted into Gryffindor, and sat on opposite sides of a very overwhelmed looking girl who James vaguely recognized.

Louis, much to James' delight, was in Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor. Victoire looked slightly dejected at having being seperated from her brother. Lucy, on the other hand, seemed delighted to finally have some company

As the final first years took their seats, a very stern and wrinkled woman rose from the headmaster's chair. Tapping the side of her glass lightly, she said, "May I have your attention please?"

Immediately the room fell silent.

"My name is Professor McGonagall and I am the headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am sincerely looking forward to an excellent academic year."

She looked around sharply, as if daring anyone to disrupt her vision of an uneventful school year. James immediately thought that this was not someone to cross.

"A few formalities to get out of the way before we eat. Like last year, the west tower is entirely off limits to anyone other than authorized personnel. If you are unsure if you are unauthorized personnel, please check in with me."

James spotted Fred struggling to keep his hand down and his attitude in check. He knew there was nothing his cousin would like better than to ask if he could be authorized personnel.

Evidently Professor McGonagall picked up on this as well, as she made eye contact with Fred and sighed heavily, "No students are authorized personnel. So not to worry there."

Fred looked down sheepishly, but it was clear he didn't really mind being indirectly called out.

"Now then, Quidditch tryouts will be held over the next two weeks. A reminder that first year students are not allowed to participate in Quidditch tryouts, but we do encourage you to come and support your teams. If you are interested in trying out, please get in touch with your house Quidditch captain."

There was a murmur of excitement that rippled through the Great Hall at the mention of Quidditch. James excitedly bounced his leg, he wished that he could try out himself, but watching would still be fun.

"This year, Hogwarts is continuing its tradition of the House Cup. Every time you or a member of your house exhibits any form of excellence, you will receive house points. However, deductions will be made for any misbehavior, so it's important that you always do your best so as to not lose any points."

An awkward silence followed this announcement. There was a tension that was palpable throughout the room. James didn't understand it, and turned back to Professor McGonagall, expecting some sort of explanation. Instead, she cleared her throat and moved on.

"I would like to emphasize that the House Cup is meant to be a friendly competition. We are one collective Hogwarts community, and we expect that a sense of camaraderie and togetherness will be maintained throughout this school year," Professor McGonagall said in an eerily similar fashion to the way Professor Tweelingen had.

"Let the feast commence!" Professor McGonagall finished with a flourish, and immediately the plates on the tables were filled with the most decadent food imaginable.

James immediately reached for a lovely brown turkey leg, smothering it in gravy.

"So are you really Harry Potter's son?" a voice said.

James looked over to his right where dark haired boy was waiting eagerly for an answer.

"Er, yeah, I am actually," James muttered slightly embarrassed, although he couldn't quite pinpoint why.

"I bet that's really cool. He seems nice in all the interviews he does," the boy was oblivious to James' discomfort.

"I dunno, really. He's just a dad. What's your dad like?" he tried to change the subject.

"Oh I don't see my dad. I live with my mum, she's the magic one out of the two of them," the boy admitted. "Never told my dad I guess, so it was a nasty shock when I started making objects float and catch on fire."

James tried to hold back a laugh, "That's awful."

The boy noticed his amusement, "You can laugh. It is really funny. Besides, I like being raised by my mom. She's cool."

"Say, what's your name anyways?" James asked.

"I'm Jerry. Jerry Mackay," the boy replied.

"I'm James."

"I know," Jerry said. "Everybody knows. You're kind of famous."

"No I'm not," James protested. "Only my dad is."

"Well it's kind of the same thing isn't it?" Jerry prattled on. "I bet you feel all kinds of pressure with such a famous dad, huh?"

"Um," James was momentarily stunned by Jerry's candor.

"I think I understand that," the girl sitting across from James admitted.

"Why, have you got a famous father?" asked James snarkily.

The girl looked a bit taken aback, but shook her head and moved forward, "No. But my dad's a professor here, so everybody expects me to be really smart and all that."

"Who's your dad?" Jerry asked curiously.

"That one there," the girl pointed to a rather timid looking man at the end of the staff table. He seemed to be feeding a potted plant. "He's Professor Longbottom the Herbology instructor."

"Oh! I think I've met him!" James exclaimed. "Have we ever met?"

"Once or twice," the girl smiled. "But we were really little so I don't expect that you'd remember. I'm Alice Longbottom."

"I remember you," James assured her. "It's just been so long since we've seen each other."

"Yeah, once dad got this job I haven't gotten to see many people," Alice looked down at her plate.

"Do you live here all year?" Jerry asked in wonderment.

Alice nodded, "Even during holidays. During the summer we have a house on the coast, but other than that I'm always here."

"What about this year? Do you live in the house dorms or with your dad?"

"I live in the dorms with everyone," Alice said. "But if I really hate it than my dad said I could go back to living with him."

"Would you ever?" asked James.

Alice frowned, "No, I don't think so. I wouldn't want to make myself stand out even more than I already do."

"I don't think you stand out," Jerry reassured her. "I didn't know your dad was a professor here."

"Yes but all the older students do, and it won't be long before everyone else figures it out," Alice said.

"You'll get used to the staring, trust me," James said.

Alice looked at him curiously, "I suppose I already have. It's just going to be different actually going to school and living with the same people who my dad's grading and testing and all that."

"I won't hold it against you," James volunteered.

"I won't either!" Jerry chimed in.

"Thanks," Alice smiled gratefully as the food magically disappeared and the meal came to an end.

Victoire stood and clapped her hands together, "First years, this way please! First years!"

"We'd better go," James stood, "Victoire's nice but she doesn't mess around."

"I forgot, she's your cousin, isn't she?" Alice asked.

"Oh, yeah, you're half Weasley," Jerry mused.

James bristled, "I'm not half anything. I'm just related to a bunch of people."

Jerry blushed, "Oh, I didn't mean it like that. I've upset you, haven't I? I'm sorry, I'm not so good at shutting my mouth, am I?"

"No," James said, "you're not. But it's okay. At least you don't pretend to not be staring at me when you clearly are."

"Um, thank you?"

"It's a good thing," James said as they neared the doors of the Great Hall. "I'm not upset, honestly."

James caught sight of Rebecca in the center of a crowd of Slytherins. She was talking animatedly to a small sallow-faced girl.

He couldn't hear what she was saying, but evidently it was funny because the girl next to her couldn't seem to stop laughing. James turned away, resolving to talk to her later.

Victoire led the group of first years up winding flights of stairs and through what seemed like a maze of never ending corridors. Just as James was getting ready to drop, she stopped abruptly, causing the Gryffindor first years to bounce off one another.

In front of James was a portrait of a fat lady in a pink chiffon dress. She looked very excited to see new people.

"First years!" the Fat Lady gasped in delight. "Well, welcome to Gryffindor. Oh, do come in! You just need the password first."

"Alright listen," Victoire turned to face the crowd, "the password is 'wrackspurt'. Remember that because if you don't you won't be able to get in. Every now and then the password will change, so check the message board in the common room so you always know what the password is."

And then turning back to the Fat Lady, Victoire expertly said "wrackspurt" and the portrait swung open revealing a large hole in the wall.

She stepped through, and invited the first years to follow in after her. The sight that greeted James was a pleasant one indeed.

The Gryffindor common room was covered in red tapestries, and a roaring fireplace gave the entire room a nice glowing feel. Squishy armchairs and several large couches were scattered throughout the room, the oldest students occupying those closest to the fireplace. Off in the corner, a stone staircase twisted upwards.

"That," Victoire pointed to the staircase, "is the way to your dormitories. Boys on the right, girls on the left. Now, off to bed with you all. You've got a busy day tomorrow."

With a little awkward jostling and scrambling, the boys and girls separated to their respective dormitories.

"See you tomorrow!" Alice called out, and James and Jerry waved back.

Upstairs, the two boys found themselves sharing a room with three others. They introduced themselves as Lucas Wood, who James already knew, Philip Hawthorne, a muggleborn who marveled at everything from the bed curtains to the stained-glass windows, and a round cheerful boy by the name of Archie Cogswell.

"That was some feast," Archie said happily. "I hope dinner's always that good."

"My sister Olivia said that the food here is first rate," Lucas assured him. "She's good friends with your cousin Victoire, I think," he nodded at James.

"Yeah, they're mates," James confirmed, crawling in between the sheets. The blankets were soft and thick, and James thought that he had never been more comfortable in all of his life.

"Do they make the beds using magic?" Philip asked, examining the bedposts carefully, as if one was about to kick him.

"They're not enchanted if that's what you're asking," Jerry said, climbing into the bed next to James'.

"Oh," Philip looked disappointed. "I suppose that's alright. But I'm going to be very disappointed if I don't see at least one enchanted piece of furniture in this whole castle!"


	4. The Plan

James woke up to the sound of heavy breathing. Abruptly sitting up, he saw Archie desperately rifling through his trunk.

"Alright, Archie?" James called out, causing several of the other boys to stir.

"I can't find my socks," Archie said in a panicked voice. "I don't think I remembered to pack any!"

And with that, he buried his head further in his trunk and began throwing various objects behind him. A jumper flew out and hit Lucas square in the face.

"Watch it," Lucas said, peeling the jumper off of him. "I'd be happy to lend you some of my socks until your mum can post you some."

Archie sighed gratefully, "Thank you. You know, I'm sure they're here, I just can't figure out where."

"Can you wait to look until we're not in the line of fire?" yawned James, ruffling his already messy hair. He slid out of bed and opened his trunk, pulling out a comb and raking it across his scalp.

"I don't think there's much hope there, mate," laughed Jerry, watching James struggle to tame his hair.

"No, there probably isn't," James admitted with a grin. "It always sticks straight up no matter what I do. I just comb it to please my mum."

"Well none of our moms are here now," Jerry gleefully launched himself out of bed.

"Fair enough," James tossed his comb aside and began to dig for his robes. "Excited for classes, Philip?"

Philip pulled his retainer out of his mouth, "Absolutely! I want to learn how to levitate the most."

The other four boys exchanged a look, "Not really how that works," Lucas said.

Philip's face fell.

"You do get to ride a broom!" Archie volunteered helpfully. "I'm rotten at it but it's still tons of fun!"

"Yeah, we can teach you how to play Quidditch!" James said excitedly.

"First years can't play Quidditch," Jerry pointed out.

"They can't play for the house team, but nothing is stopping us from going down to the pitch on our own."

Archie looked uneasy, "I don't know about that. I think we'd get in trouble for being down there all alone."

"No we wouldn't," James reassured the group. "Once they see me play they won't be able to scold me because they'll be too amazed at my skills!"

Lucas laughed, "I love Quidditch. My dad's a pro so I'm pretty good at it myself."

"We'll see about that," James challenged. "Unless you're too afraid to come down to the pitch like Archie here?"

"I'm not afraid!" Archie snapped.

"Then come play Quidditch."

"Alright," Archie puffed up, "I will then."

Philip nodded enthusiastically, "It sounds so exciting! I'm in!"

Jerry shrugged, "If you're doing it, James, I guess I am too."

"Are you in, Lucas?" James cocked an eyebrow.

Lucas grinned, "Oh, you're on!"

"Great!" James started for the door, "We'll meet while everyone is at dinner. The pitch is bound to be empty then. In the meantime, I'll try to work out how we can get some brooms."

And with that he left, Jerry rushing out behind him.

"Are you really that good of a player, James?"

"Of course I am!" James whirled around. "You didn't believe all that stuff Lucas was saying about him being great, did you? I've known Lucas for a long time. And I've seen him play. Trust me, I've got every reason to feel confident."

"I wasn't trying to challenge you," Jerry protested. "I was only asking because Lucas seemed to think that you weren't really all that."

James rolled his eyes, "Lucas is a pinhead."

Jerry broke into a wide smile and laughed, "I love your confidence. You're going to crush him later."

"Crush who?" a voice broke in.

James and Jerry turned to see Alice standing at the bottom of the stairs. She smiled up at them. "I thought I heard your voices."

"We're playing Quidditch later during dinner," he explained, coming down the remaining stairs. "Lucas Wood was trying to talk a big game, but I know he's not as good as he says he is."

"Are you any good?" Alice asked.

"Am I any good?" James gasped incredulously. "I'm fantastic!"

"Not to brag, but I'm not too bad myself," Alice admitted as the three of them headed out of the common room and towards the Great Hall. "A bunch of the older students who didn't go home on holidays would invite me to play with them when I was younger."

"So you've learned from the best?" James teased.

"Only the finest Hogwarts has to offer," she smiled back at him. "Do you think maybe I could come and play with you guys?"

"Sure," James shrugged and looked at Jerry. "We'd just have to get you a broom."

"Say, you don't think your dad could help us with that, do you?" Jerry asked Alice excitedly.

"I don't think he'd want to help a bunch of first years who want to fly brooms unsupervised," Alice said dejectedly, but then her face lit up. "But he does have a master key to the castle! I bet if I got it from him it would work on the broom shed!"

"Would he give it to you if you asked?" James said.

"Who says I'm going to ask for it?" Alice smiled mysteriously and winked.

"I like your style," Jerry nodded approvingly.

"I can sneak up to his office during Herbology and take the key," Alice said. "Do you think we'll have it today?"

"We're about to find out," said Jerry sitting at the table and pointing to a professor handing out schedules.

Smiling broadly, the professor approached them, "Hey there, I'm Professor Dean Finnigan, head of Gryffindor and the Transfiguration teacher. What's everybody's name?"

Professor Finnigan handed everyone their schedules, pausing when he got to James, "Are you Harry and Ginny's kid?"

"That's me," James felt the back of his neck heating up.

"We were friends back in the day," Professor Finnigan said, handing James his schedule. "Don't suppose they've mentioned me? No? Well that's okay. Just tell them that Dean says 'hi'. And Seamus too for that matter."

"I will," James said, struggling to keep a neutral smile on his face.

"Do you really not know him?" Jerry asked once Professor Finnigan was gone.

"Not at all. I can't remember my parents mentioning a Dean or Seamus. I suppose I'll have to write them and ask."

"I guess you will," Jerry looked at his schedule. "Look at that! Herbology last today!"

"Perfect," Alice grinned. "And we've got flying second so we'll be all warmed up for Quidditch later."

"And hopefully at that point Philip will have picked up on the fact that not everything in this castle is magic," Jerry said nodding his head towards Philip, who was examining a bread roll with great interest.

"He's the kid that tried to drink the lake water yesterday," Alice said, her eyes widening. "For some reason he thought it would strengthen him. Said he read that drinking from enchanted lakes grants special powers."

James scoffed, "Too bad this isn't a book. I think he'll get a nice dose of reality the second his feet leave the ground later today."

"That does always tend to shock people," Jerry chuckled.

Alice frowned, "He's not playing with us, is he?"

"Oh, well, we did technically invite him," James trailed off. "I guess we didn't think that through."

"No, you didn't."

"We figured it'd be a good way to teach him the rules. Besides we could stick him in goal and leave him there. I reckon he's got the makings of a great keeper."

"Really?" Alice looked at Philip, who was attempting to communicate with a salt shaker, much to the delight of Archie who seemed to be egging him on.

She sighed, "Well I suppose it can't hurt to at least get him involved. And who knows? Maybe he'll end up being a great keeper after all."

"We could tell him the quaffle feels physical pain everytime it goes through the hoop," James volunteered. "That should motivate him."

Jerry looked at him in wonderment, "You are just full of good ideas today, aren't you?"

James winked, "I have nothing but good ideas. Come on," he stood, "let's get to Potions. My dad says that the teacher's the kind of person you have to see to believe."


	5. The Potions Master

Horace Slughorn, the Potions master, was truly the most unusual person James had ever seen.

He was big and rotund, dressed in billowing purple robes which he purposely flourished as he walked. When James had walked into his classroom he had let out a squeak of delight, rushing forward and grasping his hand.

"My boy, how good it is to finally meet you! I've been meaning to come round for dinner for ages now, but something always seems to come up, doesn't it? Anyways, your father is careful to send me a Christmas card every year, and your darling mother of course. Set me up very nicely with a box seat at every Holyhead Harpies game she was ever in. Shame about her retirement, she was spectacular. Suppose it was for the best, eh, boy?"

"Oh, well-" James began, but was immediately cut off.

"And I suppose you're a chip off the old block, yes? Quite the family legacy you've got. You know, your grandmother was my favorite student before your father. And of course he's been so generous to me since. You never forget your favorite teacher, do you?"

"No, I guess-" James was cut off once again by Slughorn.

"Of course you'll be invited to the meetings, yes I must arrange one musn't I? Nothing fancy, just a little get together I like to throw for certain students," he turned and faced the rest of the class, who by now were all staring with their mouths agape.

"Perhaps more than one of you will be invited!" Slughorn threw his arms open, the sleeves of his robes barely missing the heads of several students.

Slughorn took no notice of the obvious lack of enthusiasm at this statement, instead, he rubbed his hands together and began to give instructions, "Now I've placed each of your names in front of a station and so you'll sitting there this year. Get going! We haven't got all day, have we? Although I suppose it would be nice if we did."

Continuing his non-stop stream of chatter, Slughorn made his way around the room taking inventory of his students. There were several names he recognized, and he was careful to mark out these students and tempt them with the possibility of an invite to one of his "little gatherings".

He stopped in front of James' table, which he shared with Rebecca.

"Now we've already met, yes," Slughorn turned from James and bowed politely to Rebecca.

"And what's your name, my dear?"

"Rebecca Sims."

"Sims? I don't recognize that last name. Curious, I do remember most everyone who comes through my classroom," Slughorn pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You're in my house, aren't you? But surely you aren't a muggleborn in Slytherin?"

He said this last statement as if it were not just unthinkable, but completely unacceptable.

Rebecca shifted uneasily, "I come from pureblood families, my parents just never went to Hogwarts."

"I don't-" Slughorn paused and studied her thoughtfully. "You know, I do think I recognize you. There's a resemblance there. Come now, dear, help me out. What were your parents names again?"

"They never went to Hogwarts, you wouldn't know them," Rebecca said with finality.

"Just the same," Slughorn looked at her carefully and Rebecca tried to discreetly avert her eyes. "I'm sure I know at least one of your relations. It's strange but you look almost as if you were, well, we won't go there. No."

And shaking his head he turned to go, then changed his mind and turned back, "Well I might as well ask. Does the name 'Black' mean anything to you?"

"No."

Slughorn smiled sadly, "Ah, no, of course not. Very silly of me. But you said you don't recognize the name so no harm done then, yes? Sorry, my dear, this old brain of mine gets confused."

And with that he was off to the next table, where he let out a gasp of delight and began shaking Lucas Wood's hand with such vigor that James was surprised his arm didn't come out of the socket.

"What a strange man," he turned to Rebecca, who still was visibly shaken from her encounter with Slughorn. "You know, I think I recognize the name 'Black' but I don't know why."

"I don't recognize it at all," Rebecca sniffed, needlessly shifting her cauldron slightly to the left.

"I guess I don't either," James shook his head. "Anyways I've been wanting to talk to you."

"You have?"

"Well, yes," James shrugged rather sheepishly. "It's about this whole you being in Slytherin business. I mean, I just don't want you to think that I see you as one of them when I know that you're not."

Rebecca looked at him with such a furious intensity that James momentarily found himself at a loss for words, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! Honest! I just don't think you're a pinhead, that's all."

"But the rest of my house is?"

"Exactly," James sighed, relieved that she understood.

Rebecca let out a harsh laugh, "You are unbelievable. Everybody's been nice so far. I know that Slytherin gets a bad rep, but it's completely undeserved."

"Well then why do they even have it in the first place?" James challenged her, regaining his initial gutsiness.

"Jealously," Rebecca said superiorly. "Everybody knows that we're the house to beat."

Now it was James' turn to laugh, "Oh, come off it. Slytherin sucks."

"Says who?"

"Say everyone!"

"Oh yeah? Well who's everyone?"

"My cousin Dominique told me, and she's a third year," James added the last part on rather proudly, as if it proved the credibility of his source.

Rebecca went red in the face, "Well what does she know? She's not even in Slytherin!"

"Well she's been here longer than you have," James replied, "So I think she knows more about who the good and bad houses are."

"Your cousin's a fool and so are you!"

James' face flushed, "You're the fool! All I wanted was to tell you that I wasn't going to stop being your friend because you got put in the worst house. But now, I don't think I even want to talk to you anymore!"

"Well I guess that makes this the greatest day of my life," Rebecca hissed, and then she turned and stared at the board intensely, despite the fact that Slughorn had written nothing on it.

James was still fuming by the time Slughorn finished making his rounds. Him and Rebecca had not even made eye contact, let alone spoken to each other.

Slughorn waddled up to the board, and with a flourish of his wand, it was immediately filled with neat, cursive instructions.

"We don't have very much time, do we?" Slughorn mused, as if he hadn't been the one spending the better part of the class making connections. "So we'll be doing something simple and quick. A weak sleepiness draught. The real stuff is much more advanced and can knock you out cold, but this stuff will at least make you drowsy."

He beamed brightly at his students, "Those who make the best potions will win a fabulous prize!" Slughorn winked at James as he said this, earning an eye roll from Rebecca. "Your ingredients are in the cupboard under your stations. Begin!"

Squinting as he tried to make out the written instructions on the board, James began to rifle through the pile of ingredients. He wished someone had bothered to organize everything.

Next to him, Rebecca had evidently found whatever she needed, and was serenely adding a few drops of a nasty green liquid to her cauldron. James finally emerged from the cupboard victorious, and with everything he needed.

Slughorn paced around the room, making comments and notes as he past each student. He seemed displeased with most of what he was seeing, only Lucas earned a half-hearted nod. It wasn't until he got to James' station that he stopped and gasped.

"Oh, and I was right! Truly talent runs in the family. That is exactly the shade of violet it's supposed to be! One more ingredient, yes, boy?"

James unceremoniously dumped the last of his ingredients in, and his potion bubbled violently until it changed into an eggplant-like color.

Slughorn clapped delightedly, "Oh wonderful! Take five points Gryffindor!"

He then moved over to Rebecca's section, and sucked in his breath.

James peeked over Slughorn's shoulder to look at Rebecca's potion. It was a purple so deep it was almost black, and the surface of the potion had a shimmering quality to it.

"My goodness," Slughorn whispered, "this is something incredible. Is this your first try at potions Miss Sims?"

Rebecca shrugged, "I help my mom in the kitchen a lot, so this feels like second nature."

"It looks like second nature!" Slughorn exclaimed. "Easily the best results of today. Take fifteen points Slytherin!"

He then moved onto the next station, already lamenting about how nothing could come close to Rebecca's potion.

Slowly she turned to face James, "Like I said," she smirked, "Slytherin is the house to beat."

And James' entire face turned the same color purple as his potion.


	6. The Flight

James could not have been happier to get to flying lessons with the Hufflepuffs. Getting on a broom was just what he needed after the exhausting morning he'd had.

He ended up between Jerry and Philip. Philip seemed to have lost his initial enthusiasm for flying. James thought he noticed his hands shaking ever so slightly.

"Ready to fly, Philip?" James asked teasingly.

"You bet," Philip could not have sounded any less convincing than he did at that moment.

"And you're not nervous?" Jerry pressed.

"Nope."

Jerry and James shared a smile. Philip was too busy staring at his broom to notice, his eyes widening in fear.

"Alright first years! Listen up please!" a short thin woman with spiky hair stood in front of the line of brooms. "My name is Madame Hooch and I will be your flying instructor. Listen carefully to everything I say and follow my instructions exactly. We don't want any accidents, do we? Is everybody's brooms on their right side? Excellent. Now, when I say stick your right hand over the broom and say 'up' as firmly as you can. Understand? Begin."

"Up!" the words had barely left James' mouth when the broom flew into his hand, as if it belonged there naturally. He turned to Jerry, who was struggling to get his broom up and grinned.

"Need any help there?" he asked Jerry.

"Shut up!" Jerry snapped. As he said it, his broom flew up and smacked him square over the head.

"Hey, you did it!" James laughed gleefully.

Jerry glared, rubbing his head and trying to suppress his smile.

"Alright down there?" Madame Hooch called out. "And excellent job, Potter!" her eyes glittered with what seemed like excitement. "I see talent runs in the family."

James, once again feeling everyone looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and scornful disdain, looked at the ground and blushed.

"I hit myself over the head with my broom!" Jerry blurted out, taking the attention off of James who smiled at him gratefully.

While everyone was preoccupied with Jerry, James turned to his other side and saw Philip struggling to get his broom to come to him.

"Up! U-up! Please?"

"You've got to really sound like you mean it," James advised. "It's not going to come to you if it thinks you don't want it to."

Philip nodded and screwed up his face in concentration, "Up!"

His broom hovered about an inch off the ground, then drifted lazily into his hand. "I did it!" Philip gasped with glee, holding his broom aloft for all to see.

Jerry turned and grinned, "Well would you look at that. Maybe you're not a lost cause after all."

"Who says I'm a lost cause?" Philip was cut off my Madam Hooch's whistle.

"Please mount your brooms, gripping the front firmly with both hands. When I blow my whistle, kick of gently and hover about an inch above the ground."

Madame Hooch blew her whistle and everyone mounted their brooms and pushed, though some did so more gingerly than others.

James hovered and inch off of the ground, already bored. He knew perfectly well how to fly, and he was good at it too. This beginner stuff was a waste of time.

He leaned over and whispered to Jerry, "How high do you reckon I could go before I get caught?"

Jerry scanned the area carefully, "Depends on how preoccupied Madame Hooch becomes with that one," he nodded his head towards Philip, whose broom was now bucking and shaking wildly.

"I like my chances," James said.

Jerry raised his hand, "Madame Hooch, we're having trouble down here."

Madame Hooch looked up from where she was correcting two girls grips and rushed over to where Philip was desperately clinging on to his broom, his face green. "Mr. Hawthorne, how exactly have you managed to get into this much trouble a mere inch off the ground?"

James carefully kicked off and began to slowly drift higher and higher. A light breeze touched his face, and he breathed in the September air deeply. Urging his broom even higher, he found himself level with the tops of the trees and several classroom windows. Peeking in one he saw a rather dismal looking ghost and room full of half-asleep fourth years.

"Mr. Potter! Just what do you think you are doing?" Madam Hooch's voice rang furiously across the lawn, and James nearly jumped off of his broom.

"I just started going up and I couldn't stop it," he feigned a dismayed look and glanced around helplessly. "What do I do?"

"Get down here this instant!"

James made a swooping descent, hopping off his broom gracefully, and landing squarely in front of a fuming Madame Hooch. She had Philip's broom in one hand and was breathing very heavily.

"I find it hard to believe that somebody with your, shall we say, illustrious Quidditch background doesn't know how to work a broom," she said.

"It's these older models, I just can't get a hang on how to use them," James lied through his teeth, hoping he was convincing enough to get out of losing house points.

Madame Hooch was not convinced, "Well then perhaps you're not ready for flying at all. Give me your broom, you'll be sitting the rest of this lesson out."

"But-"

"No buts, over on the bench please. And stay after class as well."

James trudged off dejectedly, all too aware of the snickers that followed him all the way to the bench.

The rest of the flying lesson went rather poorly. While Philip did manage to stay on his broom, it certainly did everything it could to prevent that. Lucas' broom up and left him when he had his back turned.

Emily Alder disintegrated into tears of frustration when her broom would not rise. Her tears only worsened when a fellow Hufflepuff by the name of Ernie Macmillan Jr. laughed at her sorry state.

At one point, Fred and Roxanne got into an argument about which broom belonged to who. It ended in a dramatic scuffle, but Madame Hooch was too preoccupied with another Gryffindor girl named Creole Clearmont to notice.

Only Alice seemed to be handling her broom well. She shot James an exasperated look, as if to say, "Can you believe this is really happening?"

James rolled his eyes in response and looked over to where Creole Clearmont was being pinned to the ground by her broom. He looked back at Alice, his lips twitching into a smile. She stuck her tongue out and grinned.

"Alright," Madame Hooch looked like she was mere seconds away from pulling her spiky hair out in frustration. "I think that's enough for today. Leave your brooms on the ground and go to your next class. Mr. Potter, a word."

Jerry gave James a sympathetic smile before dropping his broom and hurrying off with Alice.

Dragging his feet, James walked over to Madame Hooch, preparing for the worse, "You wanted to speak to me, Professor."

"Yes, Potter. I've been asked to inform you that an exemption has been made in your favor. Professor Finnigan has argued that you should be allowed to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and both Professor McGonagall and I are inclined to agree with him."

"I don't understand," James said. "First years aren't supposed to play on their house Quidditch teams."

"But you aren't just any first year," Madame Hooch explained, the faint twinkle of excitement returning to her eye. "You've got, shall we say, a history with the sport which almost guarantees that you could be an asset to your team."

"Are you talking about my mom? Because she says I should wait until next year to try out and focus on my studies this year."

Madame Hooch shook her head, "No. It's your father. He himself was allowed on the team when he was a first year. He actually thinks you could be just as good of a seeker as he was. And he was spectacular."

James felt a lump form in his throat and tried to swallow it down, "This was my dad's idea?"

"Well, no. It was Professor Finnigan's. He'd really like to win the Quidditch Cup and thinks that you could be the key to victory. But he did write your father to get his permission."

"And what did my dad say?"

"That he was more than happy to let you join the team and that he recommends you try out for seeker," Madame Hooch beamed like she'd just delivered James pure happiness on a platter.

James was aware that his hands were balled into fists, "So an exception's being made so my dad and his pals can brag about what a chip off the old block I am?"

Madame Hooch frowned at him disapprovingly, "This is a fantastic opportunity. Most little boys would jump at a chance like this."

"I'm not a little boy," to his horror James heard his voice crack. "And I don't want special treatment. I just want to be like everybody else."

Madame Hooch either didn't care that James was obviously uncomfortable, or she just didn't notice because she plowed ahead with brutal honesty, "I think it's clear that you're not like everyone else, Mr. Potter. Like I said, you've got a history."

James blinked furiously, "Well I hate my history! I'm not trying out for Quidditch!"

"Watch your tone, Mr. Potter," Madame Hooch seemed taken aback by this sudden outburst. "All I'm saying is that it's something to consider. Now, get to your next class, you don't want to be late."

And with that she left to organize the brooms, leaving James shaking and alone.

* * *

**A/N: I really hate to be That Person, but if you've read this far, you're hopefully enjoying the story. So it would be much appreciated if you could leave a quick little review letting me know what you think. It really does help me out! And I update the story daily, so make sure you follow it so you can get notified when I post a new chapter! Thank you so much!**

**-Cecelia **


	7. The Greenhouse

"You did what?" Jerry nearly spit out his food.

"I said I wouldn't try out for Quidditch," James admitted, shoveling a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

"But you love Quidditch!" Fred protested. "Why wouldn't you want to play?"

The five of them, James, Jerry, Fred, Roxanne, and Alice, were all eating lunch in the Great Hall and getting ready for Herbology.

"I don't want to get on the team just because my dad's the Great Mr. Potter or whatever."

"Who cares? If my dad were famous I'd take every advantage I could get!" Jerry was still staring at James in disbelief.

"Listen, I've already got Slughorn leading my fan club, I don't need any more favors. Especially not from the teachers."

Roxanne shook her head, "You're an idiot."

"What?" James was shocked. "I thought you of all people would be on my side!"

"Not when it comes to Quidditch. James, you're really good! You could get on the team even without famous parents," Roxanne assured him.

"I could," James admitted, "but I won't. And no matter how great I am, everyone will say it's just because my dad called in a favor. They'll be right too, which is the worst part."

"Put aside your dad for a second," Alice interjected. "If they were giving you this offer for no reason other than they just believed in you, would you do it?"

"Obviously."

"So you do want to be on the team," Alice said.

"Who said I wanted to be on the team?"

"You did."

"I did?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I suppose I did, didn't I?," James sat thoughtfully for a second then shook his head. "No it's not fair."

"Mate, throw away what's fair and look at what's in front of you," Jerry protested. "This is the coolest thing ever! Imagine what it would mean that you could go out there and lead the team as a first year."

"I'm not leading the team. I'm not even sure I'll get on. I've only been offered the chance to try out. And like I said, even if I want to do it, I won't."

"Buy why?" Jerry whined. "I wish you were a worse person. Then I'd be able to tell everyone my friend was going to be a Quidditch star at 11."

"Thanks, Jerry."

"You're welcome."

Alice rolled her eyes, "Ignore him, James. Just do what you want to do."

James smiled at her gratefully, "Thanks, Alice. At least you're on my side. And who knows, maybe our game later today will clear my head."

Fred perked up, "You're having a game later? Why wasn't I invited?"

James blushed, "We organized it this morning with the boys in our room. But you're in the other dorm so I guess I just forgot to include you. You can still come if you want. You too, Roxanne."

Fred and Roxanne looked at each other.

"James," Roxanne began slowly, "you're off your rocker if you think we'd ever pass up the opportunity to whip your sorry butt."

"As if you could," James scoffed.

"Well I guess we'll find out, won't we?" Roxanne challenged. "When's the game."

"During dinner," Jerry volunteered. Nobody will be on the pitch then. Alice is getting us brooms to play with."

"Speaking of which how many brooms do we need?" Alice asked. "I assume we don't have the usual fourteen players?"

"Right now we've got eight players," James said. "You, me, Fred, Roxanne, Jerry, Lucas, Archie, and Philip."

"Philip's playing?" Fred asked. "He couldn't mount a toy broom!"

"James thinks we should just leave him in goal and see how he fares," Jerry grinned. "I think it sounds like a laugh."

"We'll do a keeper, a beater, and two chasers each team. No need for a seeker seeing as we haven't got a snitch," James said. "Obviously I'll be one captain so you all can fight to see who'll lead the other team."

"Why do you get to be captain?" Roxanne protested.

"Because I'm the best Quidditch player," James said smugly.

"Well I reckon we should make Archie the other captain," said Jerry ignoring the snickers from the others. "He's a terrible flyer but he at least knows the game and is the most impartial out of all of us."

Alice shrugged, "I'm fine with Archie being a captain."

Fred rolled his eyes, "It's better than Philip at least. Or Lucas. The way he was bragging during our flying lesson made me want to smack him with one of the brooms."

"Mind you, he is a good player," Roxanne cut in. "We've had matches multiple times. But he's definitely not as great as he thinks he is."

"That's an understatement," Fred snorted while Roxanne just shook her head and sighed. "Come on, I don't want to be late for Herbology."

"Look at you," James smirked, "a model of academic excellence."

"Oh please," Fred rolled eyes, "Roxanne and I are just luring everyone into a false sense of security before we really let loose. We're thinking of teaming up with Peeves. Have you met him yet? Well you should. He's great."

"What house is he in?" Jerry asked, leading the group out of the Great Hall.

"He's not in any house, he's a poltergeist," Alice grimaced. "And he's a total nightmare."

"Peeves?" Fred said in disbelief. "No way. He's great! Found him throwing ink balloons at a group of Ravenclaws. Pegged Louis right in the stomach. It was awesome."

"We're thinking of getting him to help us flood Slughorn's office," Roxanne admitted jovially. "He was so rude to us during Potions. Heard who our dad was and moved right on."

"Well, your dad was a bit of a troublemaker," James laughed.

"Yeah, and he's not exactly encouraging us to stay out of it," Roxanne said. "Asked if we'd send him a toilet seat. We're getting that done tomorrow morning."

"A toilet seat?" Jerry asked in disbelief.

"Said it was a family tradition," Fred shrugged.

"We go this way," Alice pointed off to a path on the right. "That's the way to greenhouse one."

"What's in greenhouse one?" Jerry asked excitedly. "Anything poisonous?"

Alice shook her head sadly, "No. It's all the boring simple stuff. Flowers with enhanced scents and all that."

"Boo," Fred groaned. "Where's the cool stuff stashed."

"Greenhouses four to six is where you'll find the really dangerous stuff. There's stuff in greenhouse six that even my dad has trouble with," Alice pointed off to a greenhouse that appeared to be completely covered by some kind of large flowering vine.

"It's temporarily out of order though," she explained. "That plant there takes your head off if you get too close to it. The flowers just reach out and bite you. They grew wild during the summer and now dad's having a hard time getting them under control."

"Wicked!" Fred and Roxanne said in unison, looking at greenhouse six with a disturbing amount of interest.

"Here we are," Alice stopped in front of greenhouse one and peered in. "Alright, my dad's already in there so his office is empty for sure. Tell him I'm in the bathroom and am gonna be late."

And with that she ran back up the hill towards the castle.

"What's she doing?" Fred asked.

"Her dad's got a master key in his office we think'll work on the broom cupboard," James explained, walking into the greenhouse.

Professor Longbottom looked up from the plant he was pruning and smiled. He walked over to where James was standing and shook his hand warmly.

"Well, it's been a long time hasn't it? I don't suppose you remember me?"

"I do a little bit," James said.

Professor Longbottom turned to Roxanne and Fred and a huge grin broke out across his face, "You must be George's twins. Are you as much trouble as he was?"

"Oh no, Professor," Roxanne said sweetly.

"Yes, we're very well behaved," Fred said, widening his eyes, the picture of innocence.

"Oh, you two are trouble," Professor Longbottom said it almost as if he were glad that the twins were so mischievous.

James decided he liked Professor Longbottom quite a bit. "Alice will be along in a second, Professor Longbottom. She's in the bathroom."

"You've met Alice? You know, you two used to be thick as thieves when you were little!"

"Yeah, we were talking about that earlier."

"It was always interesting to watch the two of you fight over who got to be the boss," Professor Longbottom chuckled. "Anyways, heard about the Quidditch thing. You think you'll go for it?"

"Probably not," James wished that Quidditch hadn't been brought up. He was starting to feel guilty about stealing such a nice man's keys.

"Huh," he stared. "Well it's not up to me, but I think you'd be marvelous. Though I suppose I shouldn't be encouraging you as head of Hufflepuff. And after all Harry, er, sorry, your dad, played his first year. You're different from him, I think."

Professor Longbottom walked off to begin class, unaware that he has just given James the nicest compliment he'd ever received.


	8. The Game

Seven young Gryffindors stood huddled outside the Hogwarts broom shed. They shivered slightly in the twilight cold of September.

"Where is Alice?" Lucas moaned.

"I don't know, she was in Charms with us, but that was the last I saw of her," James said. "She said she was going to get the key and then disappeared."

"Well she better get here quick," Lucas said. "No Quidditch game is worth this wait."

James rolled his eyes, "She'll be here, don't worry."

"Well speak of the devil," Jerry pointed up to where a small shadow was running towards them. "Where you been, Alice?"

"Forgot the key in my bag," she gasped breathlessly. "I've got it though, let me through."

"Are you sure we won't get in trouble for this?" Archie asked nervously as the group huddled around Alice as she attempted to use the master key to open the shed.

"Oh, who cares?" scoffed James. "Trouble's exactly what I could use right now."

"Are you still on about that Quidditch thing?" Lucas sighed with exasperation. "I don't know why you're being so difficult about this. If I were you I'd jump at the chance to play. My dad's an actual professional and even I'm not being offered the chance to try out."

"I really wish I hadn't told you about tryouts," James groaned.

"Got it!" Alice wrenched open the door to the broom shed and began to hand brooms out. "Does everyone have one? Good."

"Alright," James said, taking the lead, "me and Archie are captains so we'll be picking our teams. Because I am the best player here, I'll let Archie pick first to be fair."

"How generous of you," Lucas scoffed. James ignored him and turned to Archie.

"Um, I pick Lucas," Archie said.

"Good choice," Lucas walked over to Archie and stood next to him. "We are so going to win this thing."

"I want Roxanne," James pointed at his cousin who pumped her fist and then walked over to his side.

"Well then I want Fred," Archie pointed at the other Weasley who, though reluctant to be separated from his twin, went and stood with the other two boys.

James considered his options carefully. He knew he didn't want Philip, but he wasn't sure who to pick between Jerry and Alice. He hadn't seen either of them play yet. Then again, Alice had done better than Jerry during flying lessons.

"I'll take Alice," James pointed and she joined him happily.

"Jerry, you're with me," Archie motioned.

"And I guess I'll take Philip," James tried to hide his disappointment.

Philip looked a little sad to be picked last, but James knew he understood.

"Remember, two chasers, one beater, and one keeper," Alice said, hauling a bag of quaffles and bludgers out from the shed.

James turned to his team, "Right, Philip I think you should be the keeper. It's the easiest position to play. Just stop that red ball from going through those three hoops."

"Okay, if you think I'll be good there," Philip looked very unsure of himself.

"It'll be fine," James reassured him. "Besides the rest of us will be working to keep the quaffle away from you so you shouldn't really have that much to do anyways."

"Which one's the quaffle again?"

"The red one," James sighed. "And Roxanne, you'll be-."

"I know, I know," Roxanne picked up a bat and a bludger, "I won't let you down captain." She saluted James proudly.

"So I guess we're the chasers?" Alice popped up at James' side.

"Yeah, is that alright by you?"

"It's what I normally play," Alice said.

"Oi! Slowpokes! Are we going to play or what?" Lucas shouted out.

"Hey!" Archie protested. "This is my team! I'll do the trash talking, thank you very much."

"We're ready when you are!" James straddled his broom.

"We are?" Philip had turned a very nastry grey color.

"Get on the broom," James commanded him. "You took your flying lessons today. You can at least get up there can't you?"

Philip swallowed heavily and nodded mounting his own broom.

James cleared his throat, "Ready? Set? Go!"

The eight of them kicked off and flew to their assigned positions. Archie was playing keeper for his team, while Lucas and Jerry were the chasers. Fred, naturally, was the beater. He waved his bat cheerfully at Roxanne who waved her own in response.

James started with the quaffle and immediately began to make his way downfield. He dodged a bludger and swerved around Jerry, tossing the quaffle to Alice who expertly caught it and hurled it at the hoop.

It hit Archie straight in the face, bouncing off of him. "I saved it!" he shouted with delight.

James caught the ball as if fell and threw it through the right hoop, scoring ten points for his team.

"Didn't manage to catch that one though, did you?" James laughed as Archie retrieved the quaffle and threw it back in, tossing it to Lucas.

Lucas made it about halfway down the field before a well aimed bludger by Roxanne nearly knocked him off his broom. He managed to hold on, but lost the quaffle in the process.

Roxanne grabbed the quaffle and hurled it at Archie, who made a feeble attempt at a dive and missed spectacularly.

"Another ten points for Team James!" James whooped triumphantly.

"She can't do that!" Lucas protested. "Only the chasers can score goals."

"Well then we'll just consider her an honorary chaser," James said.

"Fine!" Lucas huffed, "if you want to play that way, then we'll play that way. Toss me the quaffle, Archie."

And with great ferocity, Lucas sped downfield, weaving his way through every obstacle thrown at him and scoring his teams' first goal.

The game was truly an intense one. While James remained the strongest player, it was clear Archie had put together the better team. Of course they had the advantage of not having Philip as their keeper.

It was almost completely dark by the time Lucas managed to tie up the score. Both teams had 90 points each. "Next goal wins?" James called out.

"You're on!" Lucas said, snatching the quaffle from Alice and making his way downfield. He swooped upwards and hurled the quaffle towards the middle hoop.

"Oh no you don't!" Phlip lunged to the side and cleanly caught the quaffle. "I did it!" Philip gasped. "James, I caught it!"

Excellent, Philip!" James replied. "Now throw it here!"

Philip tossed the quaffle to James. James sped downfield, a bludger came barreling towards him, and there was no time to get out of the way. He let out a yell and suddenly Roxanne was there, knocking the bludger at Jerry, who fell out of formation and stopped chasing James to avoid the bludger.

Alice was guarding Lucas, keeping him from interfering with James. The hoops were drawing nearer and nearer, and James had his eye on the left one. Archie seemed to have the most trouble guarding the left. He cocked his arm to throw the quaffle, eyes trained on the perfect spot.

"What is going on here?" a voice roared out from the pitch, just as James let go of the quaffle.

It sailed through the left hoop, securing James the final ten points and the victory. But none of that mattered now. Professor Finnigan was standing at the bottom of the pitch, red in the face and visibly trembling with rage.

Alice pulled up beside James, "This is not good."

"All of you get down here! Now!" Professor Finnigan hollered.

The eight of them slowly descended, avoiding eye contact with one and other. Once they were all on solid ground their brooms were snatched from them, and they stood in a single file line, keeping their eyes trained on their feet.

"I get word from a prefect that a certain group of students have not been seen in a considerable amount of time. I comb the castle preparing for the worst, only to bump into Professor Longbottom, looking for his master key! The entire staff is on high alert, we're preparing to lock down the castle, and I find the eight of you out here on brooms playing Quidditch. Unsupervised!" Professor Finnigan was absolutely livid. Spit flew from his mouth and his eyes were wide and angry.

James silently cursed Victoire. She had to be the prefect that reported their absence. He knew his parents had asked her to keep an eye on him, but he didn't expect her to take it so literally.

"First things first, where is Professor Longbottom's key?"

"It's in the keyhole of the broom shed," Alice said miserably, still refusing to look up.

Professor Finnigan frowned, "I'm very disappointed in you, Miss. Longbottom. I expected more from you." He turned to James, "You too, Mr. Potter. You can consider your invitation to tryouts officially revoked."

"As for your punishment," Professor Finnigan continued, "you will each lose ten house points, serve a detention with Mr. Filch this Friday, and your parents will all receive disciplinary owls. Go back to the common room. Immediately!"

And the eight of them turned dejectedly and began what seemed like an infinitely long walk back to the castle.

* * *

**A/N: Updates may start to become more sporadic from now on because I'm getting a little bit busier, but I will try to maintain a daily schedule and promise that at least two chapters a week will be uploaded no matter what. If you're really concerned about missing an update, you can follow the story to get alerts anytime I post. Thank you for your patience. **

**-Cecelia **


	9. The Aftermath

The rest of the week was a decidedly awkward one. Although the details were never made public, it didn't take long for the Gryffindors to learn that a group of first years led by Harry Potter's son had been the ones to lose eighty points in one afternoon. While most of their group was being shunned, it was James and Alice who got the worst of it. They were, of course, the two most well known of the bunch.

James got a very stern letter from his father and mother, which went so far as to threaten him with the loss of his broom for the foreseeable future. Victoire and Teddy were both monitoring him more carefully, constantly checking on him and asking about his every move.

It seemed the entire family was prey to their paranoia. The twins, Louis, Lucy, Dominique, and Molly all complained about them being too overbearing. But Teddy and Victoire cryptically indicated that they had a very serious reason for keeping everyone under their thumb. James privately thought that they simply were enjoying the power trip.

Philip got out of it the easiest. His parents had no idea what Quidditch was. And according to Philip, his mother had a great fear of birds which she had inherited from her own mother. It was unlikely they would ever let an owl into the house, even if it carried a message.

"You have no idea the trouble I went through to even get my Hogwarts letter," Philip had told them.

James' classes weren't getting much better. Professor Longbottom had lost his initial friendliness towards him, and while he was never unkind, James got the feeling he wouldn't be invited to dinner anytime soon. As a matter of fact, most of the teachers who had expressed an initial enthusiasm for him seemed to have it magically evaporate overnight.

There were two important exceptions. The first was Hagrid. He had even invited James to tea on Sunday afternoon, which James was very much looking forward to. The only issue was that James absolutely hated Care of Magical Creatures, which was the class Hagrid taught. What's more, he hated having Hagrid as a teacher. Hagrid was constantly coming up with dangerous and unpleasant lesson plans, leaving James to be his sole defender, even if James privately sided with the dissenters.

The second exception was Professor Slughorn. The fact that James had even gotten in trouble at all seemed both to delight him and endear James to him further. He'd even gone so far to invite James to the first of what would presumably become many "little get togethers".

But it was on Friday, so James had to politely decline, thinking that he'd never been so glad to escape a dinner party.

The only downside to potions was Rebecca, who was a constant thorn in his side. Not only had she retained Slughorn's initial favor, but it had grown as she continually produced the best potions in the class.

One of her favorite pastimes was offering James assistance in a passive-aggressive and condescending way. James had a theory that she only did this because she knew it rattled him, and if he wasn't so distracted by her, he'd surely be making the better potions.

Either way, James found himself feeling rather dejected as he headed down to the entrance hall to begin his Friday night detention with Mr. Filch. He was the last to arrive, save for Filch himself. Archie looked ready to wet his pants.

"I heard he has a hook for a hand," Archie whispered.

Lucas rolled his eyes, "Don't be stupid. My sister says he's just a grouchy old man. It's his cat you've got to watch out for. A proper snitch, that one. At least that's what Olivia's told me."

James joined the group and said, "Lucas is right, Archie. Dominique's been complaining about Filch's cat for years now."

"Dominique's been doing what?" a voice said from behind him.

James turned to see his cousin grinning at him. "Nice group you've got here, Jamie. These the guys that lost us those house points?"

"We didn't mean to!" Archie protested desperately.

Dominique waved her hand dismissively, "It's all good. Nothing I haven't done before. I disappoint my mother greatly. Whatever, Victoire and Louis more than make up for my many shortcomings."

"Go away, Dominique," James said with hostility.

"As much as I would love to be anywhere else right now," Dominique said, "I've got detention, same as you. Poured an itching potion into Leo Davies drink. Ran his big mouth all the way to Professor Finnigan. It was his fault though. Shouldn't have told me he'd make a better beater. I'll show him tomorrow at tryouts. By the way, are you trying out this year, Jamie?"

"No," James said, "and don't call me Jamie."

"Why aren't you?"

"If you must know, I had my offer revoked after I got in trouble."

"That's harsh! What did you all do that was so bad in the first place?"

Before any of them could answer, a horrible wheezing noise filled the hallway as the caretaker, Argus Filch, rounded the corner. Happily winding her way through his ankles was his nightmarish looking cat Mrs. Norris. She surveyed them with her red beady eyes, giving James the sense that there was something almost human about this cat.

Much to Archie's delight, Mr. Filch did indeed have two hands. In both of them, he was holding a bucket of rags. Silently, Filch handed each of the assembled students a rag and then smiled a vicious grin, or as much of one as he could manage with so few teeth to show off.

"Right then, tonight you will be polishing all of the door handles in the castle using no magic. Your detention shall end when every single one is sparkling, and believe me, I will know if they're not."

He pointed to James, Alice, Dominique, Lucas, Philip, Jerry, and Fred, "The seven of you will each take a floor of the castle. Mrs. Norris will be watching you carefully, so stay sharp!"

Then, he nodded towards Roxanne and a terrified Archie, "You two will be on the outside with me. Get moving!"

James thought it was unfair that Roxanne and Archie got to be outside late at night when that was the very thing they'd gotten in trouble for in the first place, but he didn't much feel like arguing with Mr. Filch, so he simply nodded.

As they made their way upstairs, James turned to Dominique, "If the cat's name is Mrs. Norris, surely there must be another cat."

Dominique shook her head, "Nope, it's just her."

"But if she's Mrs. Norris, then there needs to be a Mr. Norris. Otherwise she'd be Miss. Norris or Ms. Norris. Not Mrs. Norris."

Dominique was silent for a moment, then something seemed to dawn on her and she shuddered dramatically, "Jamie, that question only opens the door for some truly disturbing possibilities."

"It's James," he grumbled.

* * *

"That was a long night," Jerry yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "I swear I'd finish polishing a bunch of doors only to turn around and discover ten that were never there in the first place."

"We've got moving stairs. I bet we've got moving rooms too," James muttered, rubbing his eyes. "That was brutal. I'll be happy if I never see Filch or his demon cat again."

"Something tells me you'll have a hard time avoiding that," Alice said.

The three of them sat in silence until Jerry threw his hands up in frustration. "Look at us! It's Saturday and we're moping at the breakfast table. You know where we should be?"

"The Quidditch Pitch watching tryouts?" James asked.

Jerry grinned, "You read my mind, Jamie!"

"Don't you start," James snapped while Alice and Jerry enjoyed a laugh at his expense. "Come on, let's go down to the pitch."

As the three of them neared the stands, James spotted Teddy sitting with Victoire. He jogged over to them, leaving Jerry and Alice to catch up.

"Victoire, what are you doing? Aren't you trying out for Quidditch?"

Victoire turned, apparently shocked to see James. Almost unconsciously, she scooted away from Teddy. "The real question is what are you doing here? You're not allowed to try out you know."

"I just came to watch," James explained. "But you still didn't answer my question. Why aren't you trying out? You always play keeper."

"I've simply decided it's more important to cheer on your friends," Victoire smiled at Teddy.

"You don't mean Teddy, do you?" James stared at the pair. "He's a Hufflepuff, Victoire! You're supposed to root for Gryffindor."

Victoire stared at him, "I'm almost impressed with how thick headed you are."

James stared blankly.

Teddy laughed and nudged Victoire, "Come on, Vic. Give the kid a break." He turned to James, "Just focus on enjoying tryouts, yeah? We'll catch up later, James."

James frowned as Jerry and Alice breathlessly joined him.

"Next time warn us before you run off," Jerry gasped.

"Can we please sit down?" Alice said, holding her sides. "There are empty seats over there," she pointed to a section of the bleachers a little ways off.

"Yes," Victoire said gratefully, "Excellent idea, James' friend. Go sit over there."

James looked at Teddy, who nodded, "Talk later, okay?"

"What is up with those two?" James grumbled.

While Jerry nodded in agreement, Alice gave James a strange look.

"Boys," she sighed, shaking her head.


	10. The Visit

It was starting to rain as James made his way down the hill to Hagrid's hut for Sunday tea. He was walking quickly in an effort to avoid catching a cold. He'd forgotten his cloak in his dorm, but was too lazy to go and get it, taking his chances against the brittle winds which were beginning to sting his face. Lost in thoughts of his own cold misery, James crashed into a figure making its way up the hill.

"Sorry!" James apologized, then realizing who he had bumped into, cleared his throat. "I mean, watch where you're going, jerk!"

Rebecca glared up at him, knocked down from the force of the collision, "Thanks, Potter. Now I'm covered in mud _and_ cold! You really are extraordinary, you know that?"

The two of them stared at each other for a minute before Rebecca extended her hand to him, "Are you not going to offer to help me up?"

Without thinking, James reached down and hoisted her up. Rebecca looked surprised that he had helped her, but quickly regained her composure, looking away and brushing the dirt off of her skirt.

"What're you doing down here anyways?" James asked.

"Why do you care?" she snapped.

James blushed, "I don't care! Just forget I asked."

"I'm only teasing you," a slow smile spread across Rebecca's face. "I was actually down at Hagrid's."

"Huh?"

"The gamekeeper, Hagrid. He lives in that hut down there," she pointed to Hagrid's house, where a cozy looking curl of smoke was seeping out of the chimney.

"I know that," James sighed with exasperation, temporarily forgetting to act indifferent. "I was trying to ask what you were doing at Hagrid's."

Rebecca shrugged, "Just talking to him. He's got a lot of interesting stories about dragons and stuff. Had one as a pet, apparently."

"He couldn't have, that's illegal," James said.

"True, but that didn't stop Hagrid. You know, you're being unusually friendly today."

"No I'm not," James puffed out his chest in indgination.

"Yes you are. You helped me up and then didn't try to push me down the hill right after I was standing. What gives?" she asked.

"Believe it or not," he glared at her, "I'm not actually a terrible person."

"Could've fooled me," Rebecca snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?" James snapped.

"For Merlin's sake! I was only kidding! You've got to stop taking everything I say as a personal attack. I've got a life outside of upstaging and annoying you, you know."

"Really? I'd've thought you spent every waking moment thinking of new ways to torture me," James smirked.

Rebecca grinned, "I don't actually have to plan these things. They just happen. You make it so easy."

Despite his best efforts, James began to smile. Rebecca pointed in delight.

"That's the spirit!" she cheered.

James did his best to suppress his amusement, "Yeah, well, don't think this changes anything. I still don't like you."

"Oh, the feeling is mutual," Rebecca assured him. "I think you're kind of a prat. But I would appreciate it if you stopped directing all of your anger at me and started taking it out on the people actually causing your problems."

"I would, but that would mean fighting with my family. And that's never fun."

"Okay, now that was getting personal. And I don't care enough to get personal with you. I just want you to leave me alone. We are not friends."

"Alright then, I'll leave you alone," James said.

"Wonderful."

The two of them stood, staring blankly at each other. It was James who spoke first, "Is this the part where we hug and make up?"

Rebecca winced, "I'd rather not get any closer to you if you don't mind."

James let out a sigh of relief, "Well in that case, I'd better get to Hagrid's."

"Guess you'd better."

They continued to stand awkwardly until Rebecca clumsily maneuvered around James and started back up the hill again. "Later, Potter!" she called out. "I hate you!"

"I hate you too!" James shouted out, not even bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

Turning away, he ran down the rest of the hill, skidding to a stop in front of Hagrid's door, which almost immediately swung open to reveal the half-giant smiling broadly at him.

James was immediately crushed by one of Hagrid's famously heavy hugs, and then welcomed inside. Hagrid's ancient dog, Fang, looked blearily up from his place by the fire. Hagrid eyed him worriedly.

"Is Fang alright, Hagrid?" James asked, hoisting himself up onto a chair.

"Er, well, he's a little off," Hagrid admitted. He looked over at the old dog sadly, "Fang's just not quite as young as he used to be. S'pose none of us are."

James thought he saw tears forming in Hagrid's eyes, and quietly patted his hand, "Fang will get better soon. He's probably just getting used to so many new people."

"Yeah, that's probably all there is," Hagrid still sounded unconvinced. "New people are always hard. Speaking of which, how are you liking Hogwarts. Hear you've got quite the crew assembled."

James looked down sheepishly, "I don't know about that."

Hagrid chuckled, "You're a Potter alright. Troublemakers, the whole lot of ya!"

"Yup," James said, "me and Dad, practically one and the same, right?"

It didn't take long for Hagrid to pick up the dejected tone in James' voice, "Now you're not really complaining about being compared to your dad, are ya? You could do worse, you know."

"I just don't think we're that alike, aside from the whole causing trouble thing. Mom says Dad was kind of a nuisance at Hogwarts."

"Well, your dad wasn't exactly a troublemaker like you," Hagrid grinned. "I mean sure, he was out of bed late and snuck around a lot. But he usually had saving the world in mind, or something like that. You're not exactly on a mission for the greater good."

"Exactly!" James said. "I just want to play Quidditch and hang out with my friends."

"If anything, you're more James than Harry," Hagrid said, turning around and busying himself with a tea kettle.

"Yeah. I'm James and my dad is Harry. Two different people."

"Well sure," Hagrid agreed. "But what I was trying to say is that you're like your dad's dad. The first James Potter."

"You knew my grandfather?" James perked up. His dad hadn't told him much about his granddad. Just that he and his grandmother were very brave people who loved each other very much.

"Knew him!" Hagrid spun around, the tea kettle swinging wildly. "Your granddad and I worked together against You-Know-Who."

"Oh, you mean Voldemort?"

Hagrid inhaled deeply at the sound of the name, but shook his head and carried on. "Yup, worked under Albus Dumbledore. Greatest wizard who ever lived. Your brother's named after him."

James nodded knowledgeably. His dad actually had a portrait of Dumbledore in his home office. James wasn't allowed in there too often, so he'd only seen it a few times, but he remembered the startling grey hair and twinkling half-moon spectacles.

Hagrid sat, offering James tea. James took it gratefully, immediately regretting it the second he took a sip. It was bitter and scalding. He resisted the urge to spit it out and swallowed it with a grimace. Hagrid was too immersed in his own cup to notice.

"What was my granddad like?" James asked eagerly.

Hagrid laughed, "Oh, he was an arrogant pr, your granddad. At least until he was about sixteen. 'Course there was a war going on then. Does tend to make you mature a bit faster when people are dying in the streets. Anyways, after that he was just about the nicest guy you'd ever met. A real troublemaker though, him and that Sirius Black."

James choked on his tea again, but this time it had nothing to do with the foul taste, "Did you just say Black?"

"Yeah, Sirius Black, his best friend. Why?"

"Nothing," James looked down, "I've just been hearing that name recently."

Hagrid shrugged, "Not surprised. You get your middle name from him, after all. A real pair James and Sirius. Always coming up with something crazy, and getting away with it too. It was damn hard to catch them in the act. They had help from Lupin, of course. He probably made things easier for them."

"That's Teddy's real dad," James was surprised he recognized the name.

"Nice kid," Hagrid said absentmindedly. "Shame what happened to all of them. Anyways, the only thing your grandad loved more than his friends and Quidditch was your grandma. Lily Evans. She was absolutely brilliant. Had a heart of gold, she did."

Hagrids' eyes were beginning to mist over again. "You know I saw them that night," he choked out, beginning to get emotional. "And they were just the two nicest people. Can't believe it. All these years later and I just can't believe it."

"Can't believe what?" James asked cautiously.

Hagrid's head jerked suddenly and his eyes cleared, "Say, how much exactly do you know about your grandfather?"

"Next to nothing," James said. "Dad doesn't tell me much."

"Well if your dad doesn't think it's right for you to know, then I don't either," Hagrid nodded firmly, closing the discussion.

"But-."

"There's no arguing about it. I'm not going against your dad's wishes. Let's talk about you instead. Saw you with Rebecca up the hill. I didn't know you two were friends."

James groaned, leaning over the table and resting his head on its hard wooden surface, "The last thing Rebecca Sims and I are is friends."

"Okay," Hagrid said, looking at James amusedly. "If you say so."


	11. The Match

It was the first week in October. The leaves had officially changed color, and all of Hogwarts was awash in vibrant reds, yellows, and oranges. Saturday was the perfect day for a Quidditch match, the excitement only increased by the fact that it was Slytherin vs Gryffindor.

James sat in the stands, comfortably nestled between Jerry and Alice. The three of them were watching the Gryffindor team stretch and gossiping about the team placements, which were still somewhat of a scandal throughout the school.

Leo Davies had, very controversially, been picked up as the team's second beater. He replaced Olivia Wood, who switched over to keeper to compensate for Victoire's absence. The loss of Olivia as a beater was a serious blow to the overall morale of Gryffindor, as she had been absolutely spectacular.

On top of that, Dominique could not stand Leo, and while their position as the team's beaters required them to work together, they simply refused to cooperate. The team captain, Tommy Brown, was furious at both of them, especially because it was his last year at Hogwarts, and his last chance to finally win the Quidditch Cup.

Dominique was insistent that it was Leo who was causing all of the trouble, but Lucas said that Olivia thought that Leo was making a real effort to be nice to Dominique. '

"Olivia thinks that your cousin is too stubborn to appreciate a guy like Leo," Lucas had informed James, pleased that, for once, he was in the know and James wasn't.

James had tried to talk to Victoire, but she seemed to have suddenly lost all interest in Quidditch. Especially Gryffindor Quidditch. Everytime James approached her she was smiling with a distant expression, as if her mind were far away.

Teddy was acting in the same strange was. He was bizarrely happy. A few months prior he had been a moody teenager with gelled-down black hair, but now his hair was bright blue and almost as messy as James'.

They'd had one long conversation where James had asked him point blank why he was suddenly so cheerful.

"You're not so grouchy anymore," James said.

Teddy had grinned broadly, and ruffled James' hair, much to his disdain, "Am I not allowed to be happy?"

"It's weird," James admitted, "when I see you and you don't immediately reach out to flick me."

"There," Teddy reached over and gently flicked James' forehead, "does that make everything better?'

James rolled his eyes, "Are you going to tell me why you're acting so weird or not?"

"No. Not yet, at least. You're kind of last in the chain of command here, you know that right?"

"What about Louis?" James protested. "Or Fred and Roxanne?"

Teddy laughed, "The twins tend to find things out on their own, whether they're directly told or not. And Louis gets to know things because he's Vic's brother."

"You're my brother," James argued.

"Not like Louis is to Vic."

There was an uncomfortable silence that followed. It was always like this whenever the subject of Teddy's familial status came up. He called Harry "dad", and as far as James was concerned, Teddy was the best older brother anyone could ever have, teenage moodiness and all.

But every now and then it seemed like Teddy was pulling away from the family, feeling their true biological difference the older he got.

Teddy and the Potter's shared not one drop of blood between them, but they might as well have. And that was all that mattered to James. Yet it seemed like Teddy thought about it a lot more than he let on.

It was especially obvious at moments like that, where an awkward hush would fall over whatever conversation was being had.

James cleared his throat awkwardly, "Does this mean Louis knows something I don't?"

"Nobody knows anything. Least of all you," Teddy had told him. "So don't worry about that."

"James? James!"

James shook himself out of his thoughts and turned to see Alice looking at him with a worried expression, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I was just thinking about stuff."

"Well stop thinking," Alice said. "The game is about to start!"

On the field the two teams took their positions, with Tommy Brown and Jamie Wormworth, the Slytherin captain, shaking hands.

Jamie Wormworth was enormous and imposing. Tommy Brown himself was certainly not small, but Jamie stood well above six feet, and she leered over Tommy menacingly.

"What exactly are they feeding that girl?" Jerry whispered to James.

Before James could respond, he heard a voice above the din of the stadium shouting his name.

Turning he saw Slughorn pushing his way through a sea of young Gryffindors, hand waving above his head.

"Oh, God," James groaned. "What's he doing over here?"

Slughorn breathlessly squeezed between two second years and stumbled rather clumsily into James' row.

Alice nodded her head, "I think we're about to find out."

"James, m'boy!" Slughorn jovially clasped James on the shoulder, shaking him slightly as he did so.

"Hello, Professor," James said, forcing a smile.

"I've been meaning to catch you for a while now but you always seem to disappear right before I manage to get ahold of you. I hope you're not taking your studies too seriously? I'm sure you of all people have enough natural talent to sustain you."

James stared at Professor Slughorn blankly as the potions master burst out laughing as if he had said something very funny.

"Of course I hope you'll take a break from all that studying to come to my little get together on Friday, yes?"

Reaching into his robes, Slughorn produced and rolled piece of parchment. Thick and tied with a lavender ribbon, James' could've sworn it smelled like it had perfume sprayed on it.

"Well I'd certainly like to go," James began before Slughorn interjected.

"Wonderful! I knew you would be excited. Just come to my office on Friday instead of going to dinner," he grinned and winked at James. "I promise our food is much more extravagant than the usual offerings."

"Okay," James gingerly took the invitation as if it were a urine soaked rat and tucked it into the pocket of his coat. "I'm really looking forward to it."

Alice tried to stifle a laugh at James' obvious discomfort, but apparently Slughorn did not notice as he beamed brightly at James, shaking his hand once more for emphasis. "Wonderful! Wonderful! I shall see you then!"

Slughorn happily waddled away. James waited until he was out of earshot before letting out a long groan and burying his head in his hands. "Why me?"

"You haven't got time for self-pity," Alice pointed excitedly, "Madame Hooch is about to release the Quaffle!"

The words had not even left her mouth when Madame Hooch tossed the Quaffle in the air, blowing her whistle and officially starting off the Quidditch season. The crowd let out a deafening cheer as Martin Jordan began excitedly shouting commentary.

"And they're off! Gryffindor immediately gains control of the Quaffle, which of course comes as no surprise to anyone considering they've got the positively magnetic Tommy Brown leading them. He got a haircut over the summer which seems to have impressed everyone, including my girlfriend. Congratulations, Tommy!"

"Mr. Jordan, please keep your commentary impersonal and unbiased," Professor Finnigan looked visibly annoyed with the third year announcer.

"Right, sorry. Anyways, Gryffindor has lost possession of the Quaffle! And now Slytherin has swooped in and snatched it up! But we've got a strong set of beaters in Weasley and Davies so not to fear. They seem to be a bit out of sync, oh this will be tricky. Come on, you to get it together for Merlin's sake!"

Martin screamed this last part as Dominique and Leo failed to co-ordinate their timing. The Slytherin chaser easily slipped past the two of them, hurling the ball directly towards the left hoop.

"And Olivia Wood saves it" Martin shouted, forgetting his requirement of impartiality. "Great job, Gryffindor!"

"Dominique and Leo do not look happy," Jerry nodded to where the pair was arguing mid-air, oblivious to the action around them.

"We're doomed," James sighed. "As long as we keep this up we'll never win."

He could not have been more correct. The game took only twenty minutes. Tommy Brown, the seeker, became entrenched in Dominique and Leo's fighting, giving the Slytherins a clear shot at the snitch, which they were more than happy to take. When the final whistle blew, the mood in the stadium had significantly deflated.

The only exception was the Slytherin section, who were cheering on their team as they flew around the field in a victory lap.

Over the excited cries of the Slytherins, James could hear Tommy yelling. "I'm telling you right now, if we ever have another game like that, you're both off the team! I don't give a flying frog about how good you are. It doesn't matter if you're too busy fighting to even play!"

"It was his fault!" Dominique protested. "I gave him the instructions."

"You are not in charge of me!" Leo said. "How many times do I have to say it?"

And the three of them began shouting over each other as a full blown argument began forming right before the eyes of the entire student body.

James looked over at Alice whose face was contorted into a grimace, "I cannot believe that just happened."

James looked away from Alice back to the field, where the entire team had joined in on the fight. For the first time in his life, he couldn't wait to get away from the Quidditch pitch.


	12. The Meeting (pt 1)

It was Friday. And that meant that James was headed for Slughorn's office for his first official Slug Club meeting.

Slughorn had been excitedly winking at James all week, which had been absolutely nauseating and a source of constant embarrassment. Jerry had taken up the habit of strutting around the Gryffindor dorm and winking exaggeratedly to further rub salt in James' wound.

"It's all in good fun, mate," Jerry said after James snapped at him one evening.

"Yeah, well, it's not so fun when you're the one he's constantly winking at," James said.

"Oh lighten up James. You need to be more positive about this. I bet the meeting will be a riot! And you'll get some food out of it too," said Jerry.

"Thanks," James sighed. "I feel so much better now."

"It can't possibly be that bad," Jerry responded. "Slughorn's annoying, but he's not the worst teacher here. I'd rather have dinner with him than Binns."

"That's not saying much."

"I agree with Jerry," Alice chimed in, sitting across from James, the three of them had gathered in the Gryffindor common room after an especially tiring and Slughorn-filled day.

"You're looking at this all wrong. All of the Slug Club students have gone on to do great things. This is an investment in your future!" Alice pointed out.

"Funny, because I thought just having the Potter name was supposed to be my big advantage. At least that's what everyone acts like it is."

"Is this about the Quidditch team?" Alice asked. "They only approached you because they might actually have to replace the beaters. Things really are that serious."

James had once again been asked to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team despite the fact that first years weren't supposed to even bring brooms to school. James loved Quidditch, and would normally have agreed, but it had been made very clear to him that this was being offered on his father's merit instead of his own.

"For the last time, it's not about them asking me to play. It's about why they asked me to play. I can't just be known as Harry Potter's son!"

"Good luck with that," Jerry snorted. "I bet it's all Slughorn will talk about."

"That's not helpful, Jerry," Alice said.

"He's right," James sighed. "Slughorn doesn't care about me. He just is pals with my dad. Just like the Quidditch team."

"To be fair, they really do need help," Jerry pointed out. "Leo and Dominique still haven't stopped fighting. I think if they don't drive Tommy Brown to off himself he might just go and kill the two of them."

As if summoned, the portrait swung open and the Gryffindor Quidditch team trudged in from practice. Dominique and Leo led the bunch, arguing furiously.

"Oh piss off!"

"You piss off!"

"Very clever. That was a witty comeback if I've ever heard one."

"Well I think we know who the brains of this operation is, and it's certainly not you."

"Than who is it? Because it's definitely not you!"

"I swear Dominique if you don't shut that mouth of yours-."

"Oooh I'm so scared! What're you gonna do? Yell at me some more? I'm literally trembling in my shoes right now. I'm absolutely petrified. I am-."

"Enough!" Tommy Brown roared. "Both of you! Go to your rooms! We are not doing this tonight."

Jerry turned to James, "You're cousin is terrifying."

"You should've seen the time I spilled food on her favorite sweater. I thought her head was going to pop off."

James looked up and saw Victoire looking grimly down at him.

"Hey, Vic."

"We have to do something about Dominique."

"Okay, so I guess you're just not going to say 'hello' to me?" James said.

"We've got more important things to deal with. Like what to do about Leo and Minnie," Victoire came around and sat on the floor across from James. "This Quidditch thing is out of control."

"Why do you care?" James asked. "I thought you didn't care about Quidditch anymore."

"Just because I don't play doesn't mean I don't care. Besides, as much as Minnie and I don't get along, she's still my sister."

"Maybe if you called her Dominique instead of Minnie she would like you more," James suggested.

Victoire rolled her eyes, "I'll keep that in mind. In the meantime, I want you to talk to Minnie."

"What? Why me?"

"You're her favorite out of all the cousins. Also the twins. But I don't think they've got the time."

"What could the twins possibly be busy with?" James asked.

"Detentions. They've got a lot of detentions."

"What would I even say to Dominique? It's not like she listens to me. She thinks I'm just a kid," James said.

Victoire nodded, "True, but she at least thinks you're a smart kid. I'd ask Molly to do it, but she just doesn't understand Quidditch like you do. So what do you say?"

James sat quietly for a minute, wondering why he couldn't have been born into a small and quiet family who didn't care so much about each other. Then he rolled his eyes and gave the answer he knew he was going to give all along.

"OK. I'll talk to her."

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Victoire gasped, crushing James into a hug. "If we win against Hufflepuff this week, I promise I'll owe you one big favor."

"It'd better be a good one."

"Anything you'd like."

James grinned, a wonderful idea popping up in his head. "I like this deal."

A bout of violent coughing interrupted his thoughts as James turned to see a boy wheezing into a handkerchief come up behind him.

"Here for the Slug Club?" the boy gasped, attempting to break out of his coughing fit.

"Er, yes. I'm James."

James offered his hand and the boy took it. Much to James' horror it was damp and sticky. He didn't even want to imagine what it was, and as he pulled his hand away, he had to use every ounce of his strength not to wipe his hand on his trousers.

"Oh, I know who you are," the boy blew his nose, making a shrill honking sound. This time, James couldn't not help but wince.

"You're the Potter kid. I'm Casper Prince. I'm in fourth year."

"Are you in Gryffindor? I don't really remember seeing you around," James asked.

"I'm usually in the library," Casper admitted. "When you're the heir to the largest wizarding legal firm, you've got to do a lot of extra studying. But yes, I am a proud Gryffindor. Us Prince men have been for generations."

"That's nice," James said, avoiding Capser's watery eyes.

"It is."

Casper Prince was either acutely unaware of James' discomfort, or he just didn't care because he continued to plow ahead with the conversation.

"If you'd like, we can sit next to each other. I can introduce you to all the members. And tell you which ones to watch out for. Like that Sims girl. Don't tell anyone, but there's a rumor going around that her parents were-."

What Rebecca's parents were James never heard because just then, the door to the office swung open, and shrouded in a cloud of perfume, Slughorn emerged.

"Ah, James m'boy! I was beginning to think you'd forgotten me. Come on in, there's so many people I want you to meet."


	13. The Meeting (pt 2)

One hand firmly on James' shoulder, Slughorn steered the young student into his office, where a small group was already sitting around an oval table, food covering every square inch. Despite his reluctance to be there, James could not help but grin excitedly at the decadent spread in front of him.

Slughorn kept a hold of James as he walked him around the table. Pointing to the seat to the right of the head chair, Slughorn said, "You'll be right here m'boy."

James plastered on what he hoped was a convincing smile, and took the seat next to Slughorn. He found himself next to an older student who he only vaguely recognized.

"Arjun Basu, head boy," Arjun offered his hand to James who tentatively took it. "But I'm sure you already knew that."

"Oh, um, I did know that," James shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I just want you to know, James," Arjun looked intensely into James' eyes, "that just because I'm a Ravenclaw doesn't mean I'm looking out for you any less. You need anything, just come to me."

James cleared his throat awkwardly, "I'll, uh, I'll keep that in mind."

"And if your father ever mentions it, I'm very interested in becoming an Auror. He heads that department, correct?"

"Yes, he does," James fought hard to keep from glaring at Arjun. "But my father and I don't discuss his work."

Arjun continued, unphased, "Of course not. I wouldn't expect you to at your age. But if you do happen to overhear anything-."

James cut him off, "I don't talk to my dad about work."

Frowning, Arjun opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by Slughorn.

"Mr. Basu here comes from a rather illustrious family himself, you know. His mother is a very famous fashion designer. And his father is a muggle investor. Imagine that! Of course investments are a very tricky business. I myself have never quite been able to understand smocks."

"Stocks, professor. And my father primarily invests in businesses, not the stock market," Arjun said tersely.

Slughorn appeared not to have heard Arjun, "I had a few smocks myself a while ago. It's all much too complicated. Either the money is there or it isn't, you can't possibly have it both ways. But I do have a second-cousin three times removed who participates in the smock market. Quite talented, apparently. Who knew there was real money in it? But of course your father seems to have found a way."

Arjun turned a bright crimson as Slughorn raised his glass in his general direction. "Of course we can't let Mr. Basu hog all the spotlight. You've already met Mr. Prince. His mother is just about the greatest legal expert in the wizarding world. And, back in the day, a favorite student of mine. You know what they say about how excellence runs in the Prince family!"

Casper attempted a response, but quickly dissolved into a fit of harsh coughing. Slughorn ignored him and gestured excitedly to Teddy, who was doing his best to use his abilities to blend into his chair.

"And your friend Mr. Lupin is here as well, but of course who knows for how long. Now that I've got a real Potter here I'm not sure if I've got room for a surrogate!" Slughorn laughed as if he had said something tremendously funny.

James saw a look he couldn't quite identify cross Teddy's face. It was a mixture of deep embarrassment, suppressed anger, and something else James didn't recognize. He felt his hand ball into a fist under the table.

"Teddy's a Potter," he said, looking Slughorn directly in the eye. "Even more than me. He's been one longer."

For the first time, Slughorn looked taken aback, "Oh, of course. You must forgive old Slughorn and his jokes. But enough about that. Have you met, Walter Gromitt? Ravenclaw seeker, I'm sure you know. Earned the position in his second year and now two years later is looking at going pro after graduation! Isn't that right Walter?"

"I don't know about that," Walter objected. "I'd like to play professionally, but first I'd need the opportunity."

Slughorn perked up, "You know, I actually know the head of the Department of Sports in the Ministry. Perhaps you've heard of her? Gwenog Jones. Used to be the captain of the Holyhead Harpies. One of my absolute best students. Never forgot me. Of course they never do!"

Walter blushed, "I wouldn't want to impose."

"Nonsense! I'll see if she would be free for Ravenclaw's next match. I'm sure she could put in a good word for you with the national team!"

Slughorn turned to James, grinning so widely James could count every tooth in his mouth, "You see, James? This is what these little get-togethers are about. Not many students have the opportunity to be recruited like Walter here. But I'm always happy to pull strings for my favorite students!"

Winking dramatically, Slughorn diverted his attention to the far end of the table, "And of course we can't forget our female member, now can we? You already know Miss. Sims, I believe?"

James looked over to see Rebecca sitting quietly as far opposite from Slughorn as possible. "We're potions partners," she explained curtly.

Slughorn nodded, "Such a talent as Miss. Sims is rarely seen as I'm sure you are aware, Mr. Potter. It's almost unprecedented that a descendant of squibs should have such potential, wouldn't you agree?"

Before he had a chance to respond, Rebecca cut in, "My parents are squibs, but they both come from pureblood wizarding families."

"Yes," Slughorn mused, "although it's a shame you don't know which ones. I do have my own theories of course. I've got a wonderful memory for face and talent, and you, my girl, have both. You're quite like a few students who've come through my class. Not to worry, we'll figure out exactly who you are in no time."

Rebecca blinked, "I think I've already got a pretty good idea of who I am. Besides, none of my grandparents went to Hogwarts, they were tutored privately."

"Where are your grandparents now?" Casper emerged from his handkerchief, looking pointedly at Rebecca.

"They're dead," she responded tersely. "I only met them when I was very young."

"But surely you must have some idea of who they were," Casper pressed. "I mean, most pureblood families have an illustrious lineage. My family keeps a rather comprehensive collection of wizarding family records. I've read through a fair number of them. And I don't recall seeing any named Sims."

Rebecca smiled politely and took a slow sip of water, "We aren't a particularly well-known family. Us Sims never quite got the chance to assert ourselves like many of the historical families you are familiar with. I don't any of you family's records would contain any indication of our family."

"Quite peculiar, wouldn't you say?" Casper mused.

"No," Rebecca glared, "I wouldn't."

The two of them locked eyes, Rebecca flushed, and Casper was seemingly recovered from his cold. Then, he simply shrugged and sneezed into his handkerchief.

Slughorn, still blissfully unaware of any tension in the room, decided to aggravate the situation further. "Perhaps you've got patches of more illustrious families in your lineage. Most purebloods share some common genealogy. Maybe that's why I see so much of-."

Suddenly, the potions master stopped abruptly and busied himself with his food.

"See so much of who, Professor?" Casper normally wheezy voice had suddenly become strong and cold.

"Well," for the first time, Slughorn was at a loss for words. Normally James would have been glad to hear less of the old man's chatter, but something about this silence felt dangerous.

"Er, I suppose many people," Slughorn stammered. "You know, I get a lot of students."

"Were you going to suggest-," before Casper could finish his thought, Teddy cleared his throat loudly, cutting the boy off.

"Professor Slughorn, I was wondering what my da-, um, Mr. Potter was like as a student?"

Slughorn's shifty eyes lit up, "Oh, he was absolutely wonderful! Truly a talent. Of course he was born with it, you know. No surprise with parents like his. Lily especially. Such a rare find that girl. Such a shame how she came to her end. And I never would have guessed it would be her."

James watched with morbid fascination as Slughorn's eyes misted over, "She was, undoubtedly, the most gracious, beautiful, elegant, intelligent being I have ever had the privilege to encounter. Her work in potions was absolutely beautiful. She truly understood the subtle art of the craft. It inspired me. A week before she disappeared, I got a letter from her, you know. She even included a box of my favorite chocolates. She remembered things like that."

Slughorn jerked his head abruptly, as if just remembering he was in the company of others, "Terribly sorry, friends. When you're as old as I am, sometimes memory can overtake you."

He shook his head firmly, "We must not let it get ahold of us. No, we move on."

Clapping his hands, Slughorn looked brightly around the room, hoisted himself out of his chair, and waddled over to a rather dusty looking bookshelf.

"Here," he handed a photo down to be passed around. "That was taken her first year joining one of these little get togethers. She was a third year in that photo. If only I knew what a force she would turn out to be."

Slughorn forlornly watched the photo make its rounds through the room, then took it and held it close to his chest, "These small gatherings, they really are a source of joy for me."

He smiled jovially then clapped once more, "That's enough for tonight! Same time next Friday!"

Everyone hastily pushed back their chairs and bolted for the door. Except James. He lingered a moment, waiting for the room to clear out.

"Professor Slughorn?" James began tentatively.

"Yes m'boy?"

"I was actually wondering if you could tell me more about my grandmother. I'm afraid I don't know much about her."

Slughorn smiled sadly, "Another time, Mr. Potter. I'm afraid I'm too tired tonight for that particular story."

"Oh," James looked at the floor. "I understand. Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, m'boy."

Disappointed, James left Slughorn's office. He shut the door softly behind him and turned, just in time to see Rebecca turn a corner down the hallway, Casper Prince quietly following behind her.

* * *

**Um, hello! I've noticed this story has kind of taken off lately so I just wanted to say thank you, and let you know that I have so much more coming. **

**-Cecelia **


	14. The Secret

If James had known that he would be spending so much of his time at Hogwarts in the library, perhaps he wouldn't have been quite as excited to attend school. Even worse, he was there by choice.

It was two hours before the Halloween feast and James was wandering the stacks of the Hogwarts library looking for Dominique. It had been almost two weeks since Victoire had first confronted James about talking to Dominique, a task which James had been busy avoiding.

They had lost the game to Hufflepuff, the most humiliating defeat in a long time for Gryffindor. Victoire had blamed James for this loss, saying that if he had just talked to Dominique before the game, things would have been fine. James wasn't so sure. He thought that Dominique and Leo were beyond help.

But Victoire was nothing if not persistent, and earlier that day she had cornered James in the hallway.

"If you don't talk to Minnie before the feast tonight, I will. And you know I'll only make it worse and we'll just keep losing."

James knew she was right, so he was on a mission to find Dominique before it was too late and the Gryffindors were left with a losing Quidditch team for the rest of the season.

Lost in thought, James almost didn't register the familiar voice coming from behind a shelf of thick leather bound tomes. Coming to an abrupt halt, he listened more closely and recognized Dominique's low voice muttering mutinously.

"Twelve inches! As if I didn't have anything better to do than write an essay on what the stars whisper to me at night. Absolute nonsense!"

"Dominique?" James turned round the corner and came face to face with his cousin, who was looking rather flushed and frazzled.

"What?" she snapped. Her face softened when she saw how it was. "Oh, it's you. I thought you were Teddy. He's been following me for weeks now. I think Vic asked him to watch me."

James nervously twisted his fingers together, "Then I guess you're probably not going to be too happy about what I'm going to say next."

Dominique stared furiously at James, "What is my meddling sister up to now?"

"It's not her, it's you," James explained. "Well, I guess you and Leo."

"Leo Davies?" Dominique looked at James quizzically. "Why do you care about Leo?"

"Because you two can't stop fighting and it's ruining Quidditch for the rest of us!" James blurted out.

Dominique starred with her mouth agape, before quickly regaining his composure and frowning dramatically, "You can't possibly blame me for that! Everyone knows that Leo is the one who started it. He's had it out for me since first year! And I haven't even-."

James did something he never thought he'd have the guts to do: He interrupted his terrifying cousin, "It is partly your fault. You're not even trying to get along!"

"Why should I?" Dominique asked. "He doesn't make an effort!"

"Well maybe he would if you did," James suggested. "But you've got to try. I'm sick of having a losing Quidditch team. We lost to Hufflepuff, Dominique! Hufflepuff!"

"That is not my fault!"

"It is if instead of paying attention to the game your busy yelling at your teammate! Please, Dominique, just try to get along with Leo. Victoire said that if Gryffindor doesn't start winning she's going to talk to you herself," James pleaded with his cousin.

Dominique turned white, "She said that?"

James nodded solemnly.

There was a moment of silence before Dominique spoke. "Alright, I'll talk to Leo. But only because I'd rather talk to him than Vic. Even Leo isn't as bad as she is."

"C'mon, Victoire's not that bad," James protested.

"Are you joking?" Dominique scoffed. "She's even more of a nightmare now that her and Teddy are dating."

James blood felt like ice in his veins, "Vic and Teddy are dating?"

Dominique's eyes widened, "No! I didn't say that. Did I?"

"They're dating?" James felt the vision around the rim of his eyes getting blurry.

Dominique grabbed James by the shoulders and shook him violently. "James? Earth to James! Anybody home?"

"How could they not tell me?" James asked.

"Probably because they knew you'd freak out," Dominique rolled her eyes. "Just calm down. This isn't so bad."

"Not so bad?" James felt his voice growing shrill. "I have to go find Teddy."

"Uh, no. No you don't," Dominique protested. But her words fell on deaf ears as James abruptly turned and bolted out of the library.

He didn't stop running until he reached the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Password?"

"Fanged Frisbee!" James gasped breathlessly. "Fanged Frisbee! Fanged Frisbee!"

James could not remember the portrait hole ever opening more slowly as he breathlessly burst through and ran right into Jerry and Alice.

"Teddy and Victoire are dating!" James said, panting heavily.

Jerry and Alice responded simultaneously.

"No way!"

"Well, duh!"

Jerry and James both turned to stare at Alice, who looked away and blushed.

"You knew?" Jerry gawked at Alice. "How did you know?"

Alice rolled her eyes, "It was kind of obvious with the way they're always drooling over each other. I thought you two would have figured it out by now." She turned to James, a look of concern crossing her face, "You really didn't know?"

James shook his head dejectedly, "No he didn't tell me. And I can't believe you didn't either!"

"Yeah!" Jerry chimed in, glaring at Alice. "How could you not tell us? We're supposed to be your friends."

James looked and Jerry, "I was more wondering why she didn't tell me considering Teddy's my brother, but thanks for having my back on this one."

Jerry nodded sharply, not quite picking up the full meaning of James' statement, "Anytime, mate."

Alice rolled her eyes and turned to address James, "I'm really sorry, but I just assumed they would tell you. What are you going to do now?"

James' shoulders slumped dejectedly, "I suppose I have to go talk to Teddy now. Neither of you know where the Hufflepuff dorms are, do you?"

As both Alice and Jerry sadly shook their heads, a bout of coughing came from behind James, a few drops of saliva landing on the back of his neck.

Attempting not to gag, James whipped around and found himself face to face with Casper. "What do you want Casper?"

Casper looked taken aback by James' tone, but didn't have much time to dwell on it because he soon interrupted into another coughing fit.

"If you're interested," Casper began as soon as he had regained his composure, "I happen to know where the Hufflepuff common room is."

Jerry looked at Casper with great interest, "How do you know that?"

Casper sniffed rather indelicately, "I read."

"Casper," James said, "please take us to the Hufflepuff common room. I really need to talk to Teddy."

Casper studied James carefully, "I'll do it."

"Thank you."

"On one condition."

Alice stared at Casper suspiciously, "What's the condition?"

Casper turned to James, "This mainly concerns you. I want you to come to every Slug Club meeting you're invited to from now on. No excuses. No distractions. Just you, in Slughorn's office, every Friday."

James stared, "You can't be serious."

"As death."

"Why do you want James at those meetings so bad?" Jerry interrupted.

"Would you believe me if I said I simply enjoy his company?" Casper shrugged, sneezing loudly into his handkerchief.

"No, I wouldn't," Jerry answered. "No offense, James."

"None taken."

Casper rolled his eyes, "I'm not asking why you want to talk to Teddy. You've got your reasons, now let me have mine. Listen, do you want to go to the Hufflepuff common room or not?"

"Fine," James sighed, "I see you next Friday at the Slug Club."

"Excellent," Casper attempted to smile, but simultaneously cleared his throat, giving him the appearance of a man in intense pain.

So it was just a few minutes later that the four of them, Alice, Jerry, James, and Casper, found themselves staring up at a very large painting of a ripe pear.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" James asked.

Casper didn't answer, instead he simply coughed once, then began to gently stroke the pear.

"Eurgh," Alice winced. "What are you doing to that poor pear?"

Much like the portrait of the Fat Lady, the frame of the painting swung away, revealing a portrait hole which acted as a door.

Casper gestured to the hole, "Alright, go on in."

"Are you not coming in?" James asked.

"No, why would I?" Casper stared at James inquisitively. "I've got my own work to do. Don't forget, you're due at the Slug Club this Friday."

And with that Casper disappeared, wheezing loudly and blowing his nose.

"That is one weird dude," Jerry stared in fascination at Casper's departing figure.

James sighed, "Yeah, yeah, let's get this over with."

And turning to make his way into the portrait hole, James found himself face to face with his blue haired older cousin, staring down at him with an unwelcoming frown.


	15. The Confrontation

The Hufflepuff common room was a mismatched array of various shades of yellow and gold, with lush plants adorning practically every spare nook and cranny. On the walls hung tapestries featuring badgers and scenes of woodland magic, fairies flitting in and out of trees, while centaurs looked on serenely.

James sat across from his cousin at a small table near the back of the room. They sat under a shelf overflowing with worn books and, bizarrely, several empty gilded birdcages. Normally, James would have asked about them, but staring at his seething cousin, he found that any hint of curiosity had been knocked out of him.

Alice and Jerry were gone. Teddy had sent them away. James didn't know why whatever Teddy had to say to him couldn't be said in front of his friends, they were going to find out one way or another. But he hadn't wanted to upset Teddy further, so holding his tongue, James had followed his brother to the back of the Hufflepuff common space without so much as a word.

The two of them had been sitting quietly for what felt like an eternity when Teddy finally spoke, "James, what the hell is going on? I get a panicked message from Dominique that you're on the warpath and you show up in the Hufflepuff common room, which you aren't even supposed to know the location of, let alone how to enter."

James looked at his feet, "Sorry, Teddy. It's just that Dominique told me that-."

"I'm aware of what Dominique told you. And it's, quite frankly, none of your business," Teddy interrupted.

"How is it not my business?" James asked furiously, a sense of outrage empowering him. "You're my brother."

"I am not your brother," Teddy hissed. "Will you stop saying that?"

James' voice began to rise, "You are so my brother! I don't care what you, or Slughorn, or anyone else says. You're my big brother and you should tell me big things when they happen!"

"James, I want you to listen to me very carefully," Teddy said in a cool and measured tone, standing slowly, "We are not brothers. No matter what Mr. Potter led you to believe."

"He's not Mr. Potter, he's your dad!" James felt hot tears brimming behind his eyes and fought to keep them down.

Teddy glared furiously at James, "Mr. Potter is not my dad! My dad is dead!"

Despite his best efforts to contain them, James' tears began to flow freely, "You said we were brothers. You said we were family. You promised!"

"Maybe I don't want to be a part of your family anymore!" Teddy snapped.

"Why don't you die and go join your real family then?" James screamed wildly, jumping up from his chair. "If you hate being a part of ours so much!"

Teddy recoiled like a wounded animal, the color draining from his cheeks, and his face crumpling inward. James' vision was too blurred by his tears and the shade of red which seemed to cloud his vision to notice.

"You said you were my big brother. You promised! But you lied! And I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate yo-."

"Shut up!" Teddy roared, his entire body turning crimson, his hair taking on the appearance of angry flames.

James stared at Teddy in horror. Taking in the look on James' face, Teddy quickly regained himself and looked around the room.

"Oh, Merlin," he whispered.

The entire Hufflepuff common room was staring at James and Teddy, their eyes wide. They had clearly been listening for the better part of the conversation. James felt his face turn bright red as he looked up to Teddy.

Teddy looked down at James, his face expressionless and his voice monotone, "I think it's time for you to go."

"But-."

"You have to go now," Teddy pulled James along by his arm towards the door. He gently nudged James into the hallway, and gave him one last distant look. "Don't come back, okay? You can't come back here."

"Teddy-."

It was too late. The portrait swung shut leaving James standing alone, stunned and full of rage and regret.

The stream of tears was beginning to slow as James stood sniffling, paralyzed by shock and unable to move. A pair of arms gently wrapped around him from behind.

"Don't be upset, Jamie," Victoire said softly, holding James close. "I wanted to tell you, I really did. But Teddy thought it would be a good idea to keep it quiet."

James shrugged off his cousin and angrily wiped the tears from his face. "He should have told me. You should have told me."

"We just didn't want to upset you."

"Why would I be upset? I don't care if you two date. I care if you don't tell me."

Victoire looked taken aback, "You don't mind that I'm dating Teddy?"

"No," James shook his head. "Why do you think I would mind?"

"I just didn't want you to feel like I was stealing Teddy away from you. You've always been so close."

James glared at the floor, "We're clearly not that close. Teddy hates me."

"No he doesn't."

"Well I hate him."

Victoire reached out and pulled James into another hug, "You shouldn't hate Teddy. He's trying his best."

The tears began to flow once again as Victoire squeezed James evan tighter, "He doesn't want to be part of our family. He said he isn't my brother anymore."

"He said that?" Victoire pushed James back and looked him in the eye.

James nodded, sniffling deeply.

Victoire sighed, "He shouldn't have said that, Jamie. I'll talk to him."

"It doesn't matter. He doesn't care."

"Don't say that, Jamie. I know he does," Victoire reassured him.

"How?"

"He tells me so. Trust me, Jamie. Teddy loves you very much. He's just going through some stuff. Go easy on him."

James didn't say anything. Instead he simply turned and walked away. He didn't stop until he'd gotten to the Gryffindor Common room.

Alice and Jerry were waiting on the couch and immediately sprung to their feet as soon as James walked in.

"What happened?" Jerry asked breathlessly. "Are you crying?"

"No," James said with hostility. "Why would I be crying?"

Jerry recoiled almost instantly.

"Are you okay?" Alice eyed James wearily.

"Yeah," James said. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Alice studied James carefully, "You sure?"

James nodded, turning away so she wouldn't see the look on his face.


	16. The Mission

James didn't go to the Halloween feast that year. In fact, he didn't remember much of the subsequent week. His dinner in Slughorn's office was, however, entirely unforgettable.

It began when a sharp knock on the door of James' dorm caused all the boys in the room to jump.

They had been playing an incredibly intensive game of Exploding Snap which Philp was, surprisingly, winning. Over the course of just a few months he had become something of an expert at Exploding Snap.

"Who's there?" Lucas called out angrily, annoyed that he was losing by a wide margin.

There was no answer, just the strong sound of persistent and painful coughing.

James looked up, "Sounds like Casper."

"Ugh, not him," Jerry whined. "What's he doing here?"

"I dunno," James got up and opened the door to find Casper with his face buried in a handkerchief.

"James," Casper looked bizarrely stiff and out of place in the relaxed atmosphere. "Hopefully you didn't forget about our Slug Club meeting today."

"No, I didn't forget," James responded, hoping he sounded somewhat convincing.

"Good, then let's get going."

"Uh," James looked over his shoulder to see his friends watching him with a mixture of amusement and interest. "We're going together?"

Casper sneezed dramatically before responding, "Might as well. We've got to be in the same place at the same time, right?"

"Yes," James said hesitantly.

"Great, let's go," Casper turned sharply on his heel and began to head towards the staircase.

James turned, "I guess I'm leaving now."

His friends, already bored, had returned to their card game.

"See you later," James muttered, closing the door behind him as he left the room.

"Casper," James gasped, rushing to catch up. For someone who could barely seem to catch his breath, Casper was a surprisingly quick walker. "Casper, wait!"

"James, this meeting is incredibly important. Please try to keep up," Casper snapped. He stopped and waited until James had fallen into step next to him, and then continued at his original speedy pace.

"What's so important about this meeting?" James asked.

"Every meeting is important," Casper explained tersely. "Let's just say there's a few people I'm interested in keeping a close eye on."

"Like Rebecca," James said. "I saw you following her you know."

Casper stopped abruptly. James nearly ran straight into him.

"When did you see that?"

"After a Slug Club meeting. I saw you tailing her."

Casper coughed delicately, taking a slight pause before he spoke. "James, there are some things I can't explain to you just yet. Don't worry, all will be revealed eventually."

"Can you explain why you were following Rebecca?" James asked.

"Not fully," Casper sniffed deeply. "But I can say that you might need to start doing the same. There's something wrong with that girl."

"Yeah, she's stuck-up and annoying," James nodded in agreement.

Casper rolled his eyes before coughing again. "There is more going on with that girl than whatever petty first-year drama you've involved yourself in."

"Like what?"

"You'll see soon enough once you start attending more of these meetings," Casper ended the conversation by turning his back on James and briskly walking in the direction of the dungeons.

James sped up to match Casper's pace, "You have to tell me what's going on if I'm going to help you."

"No," Casper continued walking, "I don't."

"How am I supposed to help you if I don't know what's going on?"

"Listen," Casper paused only to let out a hacking cough before continuing at incredible speed, "the best thing for you to do right now is to keep your eyes and ears open and listen to me."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Then you don't have to. But you still have to come to every Slug Club meeting, so you might as well be productive while you can."

James paused to consider this suggestion. He really didn't have anything better to do than to watch Rebecca. At any rate, it was better than listening to Slughorn.

"I'll make you a deal," James called out after Casper.

Casper turned slowly on one heel, sneezing as he did so, "You want to make a deal with me?"

"Yes, I do," James met Casper's gaze with determination. "I'll help you do me one favor."

"Depends on what it is."

"I need you to follow someone for me," James said. "My cousin Dominique. I want you to follow her and make sure she's trying to get along with Leo Davies."

"Why?"

"The fate of Gryffindor House rests upon it," James said gravely, conviction written all over his face.

Casper thought about it for a second. Then he pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose before giving a curt nod, "Fine. I'll follow Dominique and report back to you. Now, is that all? We're going to be late."

"That's all," James said, brushing past Casper and feeling very important. He'd just struck a bargain with a much older boy and ensured a victory for the Gryffindor team.

Feeling very superior, James boldly knocked on Slughorn's door.

Slughorn greeted him with his trademark enthusiasm.

"James, hello! And, Casper, it is such a delight to see you as always. Come in! Come in! Everyone else is already here."

Gesturing wildly, Slughorn welcomed the two boys into his office where everyone else sat uncomfortably around the meeting table.

Rebecca was sitting directly on Slughorn's left. Casper, without any pretense of discretion, pushed James towards the seat directly to Slughorn's right, which was still open. Slughorn had noticed Casper's nudge and seemed delighted at the prospect of having James right next to him.

"Ah! Young Mr. Potter, you will be on my right, of course. We have much to discuss. I just received the most interesting letter which I'm sure will delight you," Slughorn steered James to the head of the table before taking his own seat with great pomp and circumstance.

Slughorn turned excitedly to James, "Mr. Potter, I hope I'm not overstepping when I tell you how proud of you I am. The talent you've shown since arriving has been quite remarkable."

"Does this have something to do with the letter you mentioned?" James asked, straining to keep his tone as polite as possible.

"Excellent memory!" Slughorn exclaimed as if he hadn't brought up the topic merely a few minutes before. "It ties into it, yes."

Slughorn turned excitedly to Rebecca, "This actually concerns you as well, Miss. Sims."

Rebecca looked at Slughorn with great interest, "Really?"

Slughorn nodded. "It's an internship at the Ministry in the Minister's office. They're looking for a promising young first year with an interest in government to come in and learn a thing or two over the summer!"

Slughorn beamed at Rebecca and James like he'd just offered them the key to unlocking a great and wonderful life. James sat up with sudden interest. He'd never thought much about a career in government, but working for the Minister would be an incredibly cool way to spend his summer.

James looked over at Rebecca and was surprised to see she didn't look at all happy.

"Of course you'd have to submit an application," Slughorn continued, "but rest assured I would be happy to serve as a reference for either of you. Unfortunately it's only available to one student, but with my connections I'm sure you two will emerge as clear frontrunners for the position should you want it."

"Professor," Rebecca's response was slow and measured, "I am very flattered. But I'm not sure I'd be qualified for the internship."

Slughorn dismissed her with a wave of his hand, "There are no qualifications required, my dear. This internship is specifically for first years with no relevant experience, but strong interest nonetheless. Personally, I think you would be perfect!"

Rebecca shook her head, "Really, Professor, I don't think I would be a good fit for the position. I'm sure Potter would be much better suited."

James couldn't contain himself any longer, "What on earth are you talking about? You're just as likely as I am to get the internship. You're talented and well-connected. What could stop you?"

Rebecca stared at James in shock. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Casper cut in.

"Exactly what I was going to ask. I have to say, Miss. Sims, I am shocked that someone with your talent and ambition wouldn't jump at a chance like this."

"Are you really?" Rebecca took a delicate sip of water.

"Yes," Casper looked at Rebecca intently. "I can't imagine why you wouldn't want a summer position at the Ministry."

"Your concern is very much appreciated," said Rebecca rather dryly.

Casper leaned forward intently, "Perhaps you have unpleasant memories of the place."

A slight blush began to creep up on Rebecca's face, "I'm not quite sure what it is you're trying to suggest."

Casper's voice had taken on an icy edge, and his cough had ceased altogether. "Sometimes," he said slowly, "a person's family can have a significant impact on how they view the world. Which, of course, extends as far as our very own Ministry."

Rebecca met Casper's gaze with such intense ferocity James was surprised Casper didn't wilt away right then and there, "My family are loyal supporters of the Ministry."

"And I suppose they always have been?"

"That's enough!" Slughorn cut it, raising his voice angrily.

James stared at the potions master. He hadn't thought Slughorn capable of such rage, but the man's face was practically purple as he heaved himself out of his chair and swept his arms wide.

"I will not have this sort of innuendo at my table! Especially when it is altogether unfounded."

Casper coughed, "I apologize, Professor. I was out of line." He turned to Rebecca, "Perhaps we can continue this conversation when the circumstances are more appropriate."

Everyone stared at Rebecca, nervously awaiting her response.

"No thank you," she responded. "I think we've both said everything we need to."


	17. The Fallout

It was a chilly Saturday afternoon, and the last Quidditch game before Christmas holidays began. James sat in the stands, squashed between Alice and Jerry in what had become their unofficial assigned seating order.

It had been several weeks since the awkward confrontation in Slughorn's office. James had angrily found Casper afterwards.

"What was that?" James had asked angrily.

"I was doing what you should have been," Casper said.

"Why did you say those things?" James asked. "What were you trying to do?"

Casper grabbed James by the shoulders, "Only what I had to. James, you are too young to understand this fully, but there are some people who are dangerous. And they bring danger to other people. We have to watch out for them."

James shrugged off Casper furiously, "Rebecca is not dangerous. She's just annoying."

Casper shook his head sadly, "I told you that you wouldn't understand."

"I do understand," James struggled against the tears he could feel pin pricking at the back of his eyes. "You're a mean person."

"James," Casper sighed, "please try to be a bit more mature about this."

James didn't respond, instead turning his back on Casper and running away, desperately trying to hide the angry tears running down his face.

It was only a few days later that Professor Longbottom pulled James aside after class for a talk.

"I hope I'm not embarrassing you," Professor Longbottom looked around the now empty greenhouse nervously. "But I did happen to hear about what happened in Slughorn's office a few nights ago. And I wanted to make sure you were alright. I know you and Casper are friends."

"We're not friends," James said tersely.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed-."

"We're not friends," James cut him off.

Professor Longbottom nodded with great understanding, "I see. Nonetheless, I did want to check in with you. Make sure you really are alright. I understand that there was quite a nasty confrontation."

James badly wanted to walk out of the greenhouse right then and there, but something in the professor's voice made James believe that perhaps he'd found an adult he could trust. Reluctantly, he recounted to Longbottom the events of that night.

"I don't understand," James said, struggling to contain the anger he once again felt bubbling inside him, "why Casper would think Rebecca would have something against the Ministry. Of her family for that matter. They're Squibs, what could they do?"

"Perhaps he's proposing that Squibs should have a problem with the Ministry," Professor Longbottom suggested.

"Should they?" James asked, suddenly curious.

Professor Longbottom smiled at James kindly, "Not to my knowledge. But maybe young mister Prince is buying into some stereotype or another. Either way, I wouldn't worry too much about it. What's important is if you feel like you can trust Rebecca."

James laughed, "Oh, I don't trust her at all. But I at least know she's not a traitor or whatever Casper thinks she is."

"Good," Professor Longbottom began walking James to the door. "Life is too short to be so distrustful of others. Often the people you make the harshest judgements about turn out to be some of the best. I myself have a good friend who I despised when I was a student here. But now, we get along famously."

Professor Longbottom smiled fondly at the thought of his good friend. James stared at him curiously.

"You want me to befriend Rebecca?"

"Not if you don't want to," Professor Longbottom opened the greenhouse door. "I'm just saying it's best to reserve judgements until after you get to know someone. That's just my own personal wisdom. Feel free to share it with Mr. Prince when you see him next. It sounds like he needs to hear it."

James was still turning over that conversation in his mind when he was approached by Casper later that week.

"Mr. Potter," Casper greeted him coolly.

"Hello."

"I have two things to say," Casper began, an uncharacteristic note of uncertainty in his voice. "The first is that I am sorry. I fear I may have put too much pressure on you to accept a mission without being fully aware of its implications. I regret that deeply."

"Are you saying I don't have to go to the Slug Club meetings anymore?" James asked hopefully.

Casper let out a series of painful sounding sneezes before responding, "You are still to attend the meetings. But I promise no more displays of rashness and a delay of all further reconnaissance operations."

"In English, Casper."

"You don't have to spy on Rebecca for now."

"Thank you."

Casper sneezed again, this time with great finality. "You're welcome. Now, as promised, I have the information you required. Your cousin Dominique and that idiot Leo seem to at least be acting civil towards each other. Of course, their idea of civil is still somewhat crude, but even I can see it's an improvement."

"That's all I needed to hear," James responded cheerfully. "And Casper, I'll attend the meetings. But I'm not doing any more favors. I know that you hate Rebecca because her parents are Squibs, but I don't. I hate her for other reasons."

Casper's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a hollow wheeze. Once Casper had cleared his throat he nodded abruptly, "Very well. See you next Friday."

Coming back to the present, James scanned the stands for Casper, but didn't see him anywhere. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the pitch, where the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor captains grimly shook hands.

"I feel nauseous," Alice moaned. "We don't have a chance."

"Don't give up yet," James patted her shoulder reassuringly. "I heard from a reliable source that Dominique and Leo are getting along famously."

"Who?" Jerry perked up curiously.

"I'm afraid I cannot reveal my sources," James said mysteriously.

Jerry rolled his eyes, "I bet you don't really have a source."

"Yes I do!" James protested.

"Both of you be quiet!" Alice cut both boys off before either could aggravate the other further. "The match is starting."

The crowd let out a mighty roar as the quaffle was tossed high in the air. Tommy Brown sped to the end of the field where he began to scan for the snitch. A Ravenclaw beater hurled a bludger directly at him.

"I got it!" Dominique called out.

A collective moan rose from the Gryffindor stands as everyone waited for Leo to object. But, surprisingly, he simply nodded and flew off.

"Did Leo and Dominique just work together?" Alice asked in amazement.

"Yes!" Jerry whooped loudly, punching his fist into the air. "We are so gonna win this thing!"

The newly invigorated Gryffindor team had never looked better. Leo and Dominique worked effortlessly together, communicating silently at times.

Alice jumped up and down excitedly, "This is amazing!"

"It's about to get even more amazing," James pointed to Tommy. "It looks like our seeker's seen the snitch!"

Tommy was speeding downfield, his eyes trained on a small metallic blur. The Ravenclaw seeker noticed and immediately joined the chase, but they were too late. Tommy easily grabbed the snitch, hoisting it high above his head in triumph.

The crowd exploded.

James, Alice, and Jerry were swooped up in the crush of the crowd, who were rushing onto the field. Stumbling blindly, James suddenly felt a firm hand grasp his wrist, he whirled around to see Victoire, beaming with pride.

"I knew you could get them to work together, Jamie!" she cheered happily. "I owe you one!"

"How about you stop calling me Jamie?" James asked.

Victoire was quiet for a minute before breaking into a wide grin, "No, I don't think I will. But how about I get my mom to send you some bonbons?"

James sighed, turning to go join the celebration, "I suppose it will have to do."


	18. The Dog

James bounced eagerly, not absorbing a word of what Professor Slughorn was saying. It was the final class before Christmas holidays, and James and his friends had spent most of their day planning a celebratory snowball fight.

Though James was not the only student struggling to focus, Slughorn was undeterred, plowing ahead with his lesson plan.

"Today, you will be finishing your Forgetfulness Potions," Slughorn said excitedly, clapping his fat hands together. "At the end of our last class, we had left them to boil for an hour, and I am very pleased to say that most of you appear to be on the right track. So as a special treat, the potion which impresses me the most by the end of class will earn 50 house points!"

An excited murmur ran through the group of now-attentive students. Even James perked up a bit. 50 points was more than enough to make him momentarily forget about his planned snowball fight.

Next to James, Rebecca smirked confidently, shooting James a sideways glare, which he returned in kind.

"Ready to watch me earn 50 points?" Rebecca asked spitefully.

"You'll have to beat me first," James retorted.

She laughed cruelly, "Shouldn't be too hard."

Fuming, James turned away from her.

"Your potions are at your stations, and you will have the entirety of class to complete them," Slughorn announced. "Begin!"

The potions room was suddenly filled with chatter and the sound of tinkling glass as the students rushed to be the first to finish. Not wanting to miss out, James quickly began to grind his mistletoe berries in his mortar.

He could vaguely hear the sound of Rebecca working next to him, and he stole a glance at her mortar. Her powder was much coarser than his, and James felt a lump beginning to form at the back of his throat. Rebecca noticed him staring and laughed.

"Getting nervous, Potter?"

"Never," James said defiantly, hoping he sounded convincing.

Apparently he didn't, because Rebecca rolled her eyes and gestured to the front of the room, "If you'd bothered to properly read the instructions, you'd see that the powder is supposed to be medium-fine."

"Mine _is_ medium-fine," James said angrily.

"Yours is overly fine," Rebecca said firmly.

James could feel himself getting hot under the collar, "You don't know anything."

"I know more than you," Rebecca scoffed. "You know, you're not as smart as you think you are."

"Please," James hissed. "You don't know any more than I do!"

"Alright then," Rebecca said, "put your powder in your cauldron and see how it turns out. Unless, of course, you think it won't come out right."

"It will come out fine," James snapped, putting two pinches of the powder in his potion.

Much to his horror, Rebecca had been right. The color of his potion was much too light to be the correct shade. Snickering at his predicament, Rebecca sprinkled her own powder into her cauldron, turning her potion precisely the right shade of orange.

"Sorry, Potter," she smiled maliciously. "Looks like I'll be getting those 50 points today."

No, I don't think you will," he spat angrily. Unable to contain his fury any longer, James grabbed a fistful of Rebecca's powder, and furiously threw it into her cauldron.

"No!" Rebecca instinctively dived below the table.

Noticing the commotion, the students in the area immediately began to wander closer as Rebecca's potion took on a nasty brown color and began to bubble intensely.

"Uh-oh," James swallowed nervously as the bubbles on the surface of the potion began to burst, releasing clouds of gas in their wake.

Slughorn was by the door in an instant, holding it open. "Everybody out at once!" he yelled, his voice booming through the crowded potions room.

Scrambling out from under the table, Rebecca made a beeline for the door, James hot on her heels. Within a few seconds, the potion room had been cleared out. Slughorn slammed the door, whirling around to face his panicked class.

James had never seen the potions-master so angry. His already discolored face had taken on a nasty purplish tint, and using a handkerchief, Slughorn wiped the sweat from his brow, panting heavily.

Furiously, he turned towards Rebecca and James, who were keeping a purposeful distance from one another, "Either of you care to explain what you were thinking?"

"It wasn't me, Professor!" Rebecca protested angrily. "Potter just threw a handful of powder in my potion. All because he was jealous he couldn't do it right."

"That's not true!" James yelled back. "You were egging me on!"

The two immediately launched into a bitter argument, bickering back and forth incessantly.

"Since day one, Professor-!"

"And I tried, I really did-."

"Total lack of intelligence-."

"Not my fault!"

"As if _I _could ever-."

"Enough!" Slughorn waved his arms dramatically, causing both of them to stop in their tracks.

"Never in my life have I seen such an outrageous display of total disregard for others! Do you know what your little stunt could have caused, Mr. Potter?"

James looked at the ground.

"It could have easily wiped the memories of every person in that classroom including myself," Slughorn said harshly.

Rebecca glanced smugly at James, satisfied she had won. But Slughorn was not finished.

"And you, Miss. Sims," he said, "your taunting of Potter today did not go unnoticed by me. You are a very talented girl, there is not a reason good enough to stoop to that level!"

Rebecca stared at Slughorn, her mouth agape.

"Both of you will be uninvited from all future Slug Club meetings!" Slughorn announced grandly. Then, noticing perhaps that the two of them were not as devastated as he thought they should have been, Slughorn cleared his throat.

"And you will serve a detention tonight!"

"What?" Rebecca and James exploded in unison.

They began to protest. It wasn't fair to do this on their final night. Not with the Christmas feast being scheduled. They'd serve detention any other time. Even more than once! But they just couldn't tonight. But no matter how hard they tried, Slughorn refused to budge.

And so James found himself trudging down to Hagrid's hut in the inky black of winter's night. While the rest of the school enjoyed a nice hot dinner, James would be serving detention with his mortal enemy, and feasting on Hagrid's infamous rock cakes. His only comfort was that Rebecca was just as unhappy as he was. James found her sulking on Hagrid's front steps, dejectedly petting Fang.

Fang tried to raise his head to greet James, but couldn't muster the strength, instead just looking up at the boy with his big, watery eyes. James leaned down and rubbed the old dog between his ears, feeling very sorry for him.

"Where's Hagrid?"

"At the feast," Rebecca said bitterly, "just like everyone else."

"What about our detention?" James sputtered. "Are we just supposed to sit out here?"

"Hagrid left a note," Rebecca pulled a small slip of paper out of the pocket of her cloak. "We're to wash Fang and help ourselves to any of the special cakes Hagrid's made for us."

"So where's the washtub?" James asked.

"Inside, but I couldn't get Fang to move," Rebecca said, sadly looking down at the dog. "To be honest, I don't know if he can make it up the steps. I assume Hagrid just carries him around, but he's too big for me to lift."

"Could we get a board and make a plank of some sort?" James asked.

"Actually," Rebecca cleared her throat uncomfortably, "I was thinking we could use magic. Something like the levitation charm."

"Why didn't you just do that before I got here and save me all this trouble?" James asked, getting irritated.

"Because, Potter," Rebecca spat bitterly, "I couldn't cast a spell strong enough to lift something as big as Fang."

James stared in shock, "You couldn't?"

"He weighs more than me, of course not!" Rebecca snapped angrily.

Picking up on her agitated tone, Fang whined in concern. Rebecca quickly began petting Fang between the ears, until the dog had calmed down and was silent once more.

"So you want me to try?" James smirked, glad to finally have the upper hand.

"Just hurry up and do it," Rebecca hissed, fighting to not disturb Fang once again.

"No, no," James said, casually rocking back and forth, hands in his pockets. "I need to hear you ask me first."

"Are you actually joking?"

Even in the dark, James could see Rebecca's face turn a violent shade of red.

"Admit you need my help and ask for it, or go find a plank of wood," James said stubbornly.

"Could you stop trying to one up me for one second and be a decent person? Fang is dying and all you can think about is humiliating me!" Rebecca's voice cracked as she spoke, and James felt a pang of guilt.

"Right," he muttered. "I'll do it for Fang. No asking necessary."

Rolling up his sleeves, he raised his wand and took a deep breath, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Fang drifted lazily off the ground, but not high enough to reach the top step. Instead, he just gently floated back down, landing with a soft "thump".

"Er, I guess he's too big for me as well," James said sheepishly.

"Well," Rebecca spoke in a strange, halting manner, "what if we tried it together?"

"Huh?"

"If we both did the spell at the same time, we might be able to lift him high enough."

James was silent for a minute before responding, "It's worth a shot. On my mark."

"Why your mark?"

"Rebecca!"

"Right, for Fang."

James cleared his throat, "One, two, three! Wingardium Leviosa!"

Once again, Fang lifted up on the ground, much higher than before, but he still came one step short of making it in the hut. Dejectedly, James and Rebecca set him down.

"It was worth a shot," Rebecca sighed, looking down woefully at Fang. "Why won't you just walk up the steps yourself, you meathed?"

Stretching, Fang let out a mighty yawn before casually getting on all fours, and walking calmly up the stairs.

James stared at Rebecca, "I can't believe that worked."

"I can't either," Rebecca stared after Fang, somewhat amazed. "I didn't know he could even still do that. I guess we can give him his bath after all."

A few moments later, Fang was happily soaking in the warm water of the washtub, while James and Rebecca scrubbed his mass of fur. Hagrid's hut was silent, except for the crackling of the fire in the corner. It was James who eventually spoke first.

"Rebecca?"

"Hm?"

"Did you mean what you said outside? Is Fang really dying?"

Rebecca sighed, "It looks like it. He won't even eat the cakes I sneak him anymore. Even Hagrid knows it's just a matter of time, but he won't admit it."

James looked down at Fang, who had fallen asleep and was peacefully snoring.

"What will Hagrid do?" he asked.

"I don't know," Rebecca admitted sadly. "I think he'll be very lonely."

"Sometimes I wish-," James abruptly stopped speaking, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and embarrassed.

The sound of swishing water stopped as Rebecca abruptly lay down the sponge she was using, "Sometimes you wish what?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"Why should I?"

"Because I asked."

James found himself unable to object to such a flawless statement of pure logic. Sighing, he set down his own sponge, flopping backwards onto the floor.

"I wish that I could just wave my wand and solve everything for everyone all at once. And then there would be no more problems."

There was a moment of silence before Rebecca finally spoke, "That's a nice wish."

"It is?" James was shocked that she approved.

"Sure," she said. "Of course, life would get a little boring with no problems to solve."

"There are things to do besides solve problems," James rolled his eyes.

"Like what?"

"Make new ones."

Rebecca laughed, but not the sarcastic bitter laugh she normally directed towards him. This laugh was warmer, almost friendly.

"Well, what would you wish for?" he asked.

"You want to know what I'd wish for?" Rebecca sounded shocked.

"Of course," James said, surprised to find that he meant it.

Rebecca was quiet before answering, "I wish that Slughorn had really inhaled that potion today and permanently forgot about the Slug Club so that nobody would ever have to suffer through one of those awful meetings ever again."

James fought to suppress a laugh, "They're not that bad!"

"Yes they are!" Rebecca jumped to her feet and began to strut around the room, doing an impressive imitation of Slughorn.

"Hello all! I am very big and important and if you do not send me Christmas cards for the rest of your miserable lives I will forever badmouth you to a group of children!"

James could stand it no longer, and dissolved into a fit of giggles. Rebecca soon joined him, and suddenly the two of them were writhing around on the floor, screaming with laughter. Fang, now awake, joined in, adding a chorus of howls to complete the ridiculous symphony.

Suddenly, the door to the hut swung open with a bang, hitting the wall and causing both James and Rebecca to shout in fear. Hagrid stood in the doorway, brandishing his pink umbrella.

"What's going on? Who's hurt?"

"No one's hurt!" Rebecca cut in quickly, leaping to her feet. "We were just laughing at something."

"It sounded like you were screamin' bloody murder!" Hagrid said, pressing a hand to his heart and sinking into the nearest chair. "Don' ever scare me like tha' again!"

"We're sorry, Hagrid," James said, standing and dusting himself off. "We finished cleaning Fang."

Fang clumsily clambered out of the washtub, shaking himself dry and sending droplets flying across the room. Hagrid grinned and went to pet his dog.

"He's lookin' better already. Thanks to the both of you for yer trouble," Hagrid smiled fondly at James and Rebecca, who were now both covered in water. "In fact, I brought sumn for you."

And reaching into his pockets, Hagrid pulled out two enormous slices of cake. Real cake from the feast. Not the nasty miniature cakes which sat untouched on Hagrid's table.

James and Rebecca eagerly accepted, quickly scarfing down the slices. And after hugging them both and thanking them once again, Hagrid ushered them out of his hut and waved them off up towards the castle.

When they finally reached the Hogwarts entryway, Rebecca turned to James and stuck out her hand. James looked at it in surprise, but took in nonetheless.

"Thanks for helping tonight, Potter. I know we both had to be there, of course. But that was the happiest I've seen Hagrid in a long time," she said, shaking his hand.

"No problem," James said, suddenly not able to meet her eyes. "I just hope Fang makes it a little longer."

Rebecca stepped back, smiling sadly, "Yeah, me too."

The two of them stood awkwardly facing one another. James was considering just turning and running away when Rebecca cleared her throat.

"Happy Christmas, Potter. I hope your holiday is filled with all the misery and woe you deserve."

"Same to you," James looked at his feet, shuffling back and forth awkwardly. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else he wanted to say to her. But before he could figure out what it was, Rebecca had turned and walked off, disappearing into the shadows before he could even get the chance.

* * *

**Hey guys! I just wanted to say that I hope you all are doing well and staying safe. Times are tough right now, and it can be difficult to talk about without getting overwhelmed. But you're not alone and things will get better. Somehow, they always do. **

**xoxo, **

**Cecelia **


	19. The Truth

The whistle of the Hogwarts Express let out a piercing shriek as it pulled into King's Cross station. James and Jerry had their faces smushed against the window of the train, looking out for their respective families. Peering out the window into the crowd, James couldn't pick out his parents amongst the sea of faces, but he knew they were there.

As the train lurched to a stop, James eagerly sprung out of his seat. He hadn't realized how much he had missed his family during their time apart. He even missed Albus and his constant whining. Scrambling to grab his things, James turned to Jerry.

"Excited to see your parents?" he asked.

"Of course," Jerry grunted under the weight of his trunk. "But I'm more excited to see my gran. I only get to see her at Christmas."

"You'll write, won't you?" James asked, hopefully.

"Of course," Jerry sounded as if the mere suggestion he wouldn't was a terrible insult. "As long as you write back."

Pulling his luggage out into the corridor, James spotted Teddy disembarking. A cold feeling washed over him. They hadn't spoken since their fight in the Hufflepuff common room. Jerry glanced at James and, seeing the expression on his friend's face, patted his shoulder comfortingly.

"You'll have a good holiday, don't worry," Jerry said.

"Thanks." Without thinking, James grabbed Jerry and hugged him tight. "I'll see you after the holidays."

Jerry grinned and stepped back, "You'd better. Bye, James!"

"Bye, Jerry!"

Pushing through the crowd, Jerry made his way off the train and began his search for his parents. Pausing to take a deep breath, James soon followed suit, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.

Eventually, he saw a flash of bright red hair and eagerly sped towards it, knowing that if it wasn't his parents he found, it would at least be a Weasley. As James got closer, he saw that it was his mother, anxiously scanning the train platform. He began walking much quicker, eager to get to her.

Finally, his family caught sight of him. Teddy was already standing amongst them, showing some little trick to Albus and Lily, who were both watching with great fascination. Ginny was grinning from ear to ear, but Harry looked significantly more ill-tempered. James felt his stomach twist into knots at the sight.

Ginny immediately embraced her son, "Jamie! We've missed you so much. And you've barely written at all, although I specifically told you to stay in touch. But now that you're here, you can tell us everything."

"And you can start," Harry cut in, his voice flat, "with explaining the owl we received from Slughorn this morning."

"Not now," Ginny said, her tone suddenly cold. "And especially not here."

"How much trouble am I in?" James said dejectedly.

"Depends on how nice you are to your brother on the car ride home," Ginny said lightly. "Hurry up and grab your luggage. Your grandparents are already at the house and waiting."

James immediately perked up, "How long have they been there?"

"Since this morning," Ginny said, helping James carry his luggage. "They would've come but we needed someone to stay at the house, especially with Kreacher in one of his moods again."

"What's wrong this time?" James asked, his mind wandering to his family's temperamental House Elf.

"He's fretting about being given his freedom," Ginny sighed. "We've explained to him that he can still work for us, even if he is free, but he doesn't care. At one point he threatened to cut his head off in order to, as he puts it, 'maintain his dignity as an elf'."

"Doesn't he threaten to cut his head off every Christmas?" James asked.

"Yes," Ginny sighed. "Your Aunt Hermione's kindness towards him gets him awfully worked up."

The family arrived at their car, where James and Teddy loaded the trunk while the rest of the family piled in. At one point, James tried to catch Teddy's eye, but Teddy refused to look at him.

The car was the one piece of muggle technology the Potters owned. They had a telephone for a while, but nobody ever used it. And the only two people who called were Aunt Hermione and Grandpa Arthur. The former of the two didn't call often enough, while the latter simply didn't know how to use a telephone, so there was no point in keeping it around. But the SUV had proved essential in getting around. Particularly with four children and a pile of luggage.

James took his seat next to Albus, angrily brushing his brother's arm aside, "Don't touch me."

"You were touching me," Albus protested, squished between his older brother and younger sister.

"And now you're touching me," Lily said angrily, pushing back against both of her brothers.

"Hey!" James pushed back, and a small battle ensued.

The squabbling lasted the entire ride home, and by the time the Potter family car pulled up in front of 12 Grimmauld place, James was starting to feel like he hadn't even been away. Clambering out of the car, he pushed his brother aside and rushed up the front steps, eager to see his grandparents.

As he entered, James was greeted by the sound of loud chatter and petty squabbling. He smiled to himself. Christmas was always James' favorite time of year. The entire family gathered in Grimmauld place to celebrate together. It was one of the only times they all were free to meet. And the best part was, because the house was so big, they could stay the entire holiday season.

Shrugging off his outerwear as he trudged along, James made his way to the kitchen. Flinging open the door, he was immediately met by the sight of his Uncle Ron desperately trying to wrestle a frying pan away from Kreacher while the rest of the family cheered them on.

"Hit him, Kreacher!" James' cousin Rose cheered delightedly.

"Rose!" Aunt Hermione angrily admonished her daughter. "Your father is trying to stop the elf from hurting himself."

Kreacher grunted, squirming to retain his currently dominant position, "Oh, if the masters could see what you're doing to poor old Kreacher. All he wants to do is punish himself for being such a terrible elf. And this awful man is ruining it."

"Let go of the pan, Kreacher," Ron bellowed, yanking as hard as he could. But it was no use, Kreacher had a strong grip.

"Kreacher!" James called out, immediately grabbing the attention of the elf. "Kreacher, let go of the pan."

Immediately, Kreacher relinquished his grasp, bowing deeply to James, "Kreacher is happy to see the young master returned. Kreacher would like the young masters permission to hit himself with the frying pan now."

"No," James said firmly. "Why don't you go sulk in your cupboard, Kreacher."

"Yes," Kreacher twisted his hands together, mumbling to himself. "Kreacher will go to his cupboard and feel sorry for himself. Kreacher thanks the young master for understanding Kreacher's grief."

And shooting one last dirty look around the room, Kreacher disappeared with a loud 'pop'.

"Thank you, Jamie," Hermione said gratefully. "I was afraid he was going to hurt himself."

"He's just going to go and bang his head against the wall of his cupboard," Albus said, joining the rest of his family in the kitchen.

"Kreacher can do what he wants," James shrugged. "He's a free elf."

"And a pest at that," Ron mumbled.

"Ron!"

"Sorry, 'mione."

James made his way over to the back of the room where his grandparents sat, talking with Uncle Charlie, "Hello!"

"Jamie!" Molly Weasley stood and warmly hugged her grandson. "You've grown since I saw you over the summer, haven't you? I hope the jumper I made for you will still fit."

"It'll fit fine," Charlie laughed, slapping James on the back. "How've you been?"

"Alright," James shrugged. "Mostly just at school."

"How awful for you," Charlie stood and stretched. "More butterbeer, Mom and Dad? No? More for me." And he sauntered off to get another drink.

"How have you been?" James asked his grandparents. "Any new muggle inventions to report on?"

Arthur Weasley immediately lit up, "You know, it's funny you should ask. We just got a new contraption of sorts. It's called a lawnmower! And the way it works is you fill it up with this stuff called gasonine. Then you pull this little string, and it makes a terrible noise that frightens all the gnomes out of your garden. Ingenious some of these little muggle gadgets!"

"What sort of noise does it make?"

"It sounds like a car trying to start after being set on fire."

"Wicked."

"Jamie!"

James suddenly found himself enveloped in a very perfumy hug, "Hello, Tante Fleur."

"Victoire and Dominique both tell me you have been a big help around Hogwarts. Always looking out for your cousins! Such a noble young man you are becoming. Just like your father!"

"Thanks," James said, struggling to disentangle himself from his aunt.

"He wants to speak to you himself now," Fleur gestured to where Harry was hovering in the entrance to the kitchen.

"Oh," James felt a wave of nausea overcome him. "I should probably go see what he wants. I'll talk to you all later."

Weaving his way through the kitchen, James passed by Hermione and his Uncle Percy, who were deeply engaged in some political debate. He ruffled Hugo's hair as he passed his young cousin, and offered a friendly wave to his Uncle George and Aunt Angelina. Then, finally reaching the kitchen doorway, he allowed himself to be ushered away by his very serious looking father.

Mr. Potter's office was cluttered with all sorts of strange souvenirs from both his time at Hogwarts and in the Ministry. A tall formal portrait of an old man in flowing purple robes and half-moon spectacles watched over the entire operation. Right now the man was sleeping, but James still eyed him warily.

He knew the man was Albus Dumbledore, a former headmaster of Hogwarts, and his brother's namesake. James wasn't in his father's office very often, but when he was, the portrait gave him a sort of uneasy feeling. Almost as if it could see right through him.

James gingerly took a seat in front of his father's heavy wooden desk, while Mr. Potter paced agitatedly around the room.

"James, I've known Slughorn a long time. The man doesn't upset easily, especially when it comes to Potters. So you can imagine it was quite a shock to me to receive a disciplinary owl from Slughorn regarding your behaviour."

"It wasn't my fault!" James protested. "It was this girl-."

"I know," Harry reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. "Rebecca Sims."

"She's awful, dad," James whined. "Always trying to show-off and prove she's better than me."

"One girl's negative attitude cannot dictate your behavior!" Harry said angrily. "Your mother and I didn't raise you to be so impulsive."

"Yeah, you raised me to be just like you," James grumbled.

"What?" Harry sounded genuinely confused.

"You've always tried to make me just like you," James snapped. "Forcing me to play Quidditch, getting me special treatment with all your friends, making sure I behave perfectly so that you look good."

"I haven't tried to do any of that," Harry said, his anger slowly becoming concern for his son.

"Oh, really?" James felt his face heating up. "Then why'd you contact Professor Finnigan and tell him I would be a good fit for the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"

"Dean contacted me and offered up the opportunity. I thought you'd be excited. I played Quidditch my first year and I loved it," Harry said, taking a seat next to his son.

"Well I don't want to be like you," James cried out. "I don't even know who you are!"

"James-."

"All of these people know exactly who you are and what you did, and they tell me all about how great you were, and how special my grandparents were, and I look like an idiot because I don't know anything about anything!"

"James, I barely knew my own story when I was your age," Harry said gently.

"It's not right!" James protested. "The entire world knows more about my family than I do."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything!" James yelled. "What really happened between you and Voldemort? Why, out of everyone who fought him, are you so special? Who were my grandparents? And why does everyone talk about them like they were the best people ever? What did they do?"

"That's a lot of ground to cover," Harry said slowly. "And not all of it's pretty."

"Dad," James choked out, "I have to know. I have to know who I am."

Harry sighed and rubbed his face, "Well, I guess we'd better start at the very beginning."


End file.
